


Liberation of Skyrim

by haunter_ielle



Series: Striking the Heart [2]
Category: Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim, Skyrim, The Companions - Fandom
Genre: Adventure, Blood's Honor, Civil War questline, Emo Vilkas, Male-Female Friendship, Moody Vilkas, Other, Poor Baby Farkas, Romance, Sequel, Sibling Bonding, Spin On Original Quest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-09
Updated: 2016-09-05
Packaged: 2018-08-07 17:09:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 35
Words: 81,175
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7722859
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/haunter_ielle/pseuds/haunter_ielle
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Months after Karalissa becomes the Harbinger of the Companions and reunites with her brother, the Felstead Siblings, along with the Circle, join the ranks of the Stormcloaks and fight for the true sons and daughters of Skyrim. As usual, though, things don't go exactly as planned.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. A New Adjustment

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Karalissa heads away from Jorrvaskr to spend some quality time with Vilkas. Later, Cassius has plans for a get-together.
> 
> POV: Karalissa

            “You should come with us.”

            Vilkas raised an eyebrow at me, looking over at me from where he laid in the grass. We had actually planned to spend the day roaming Whiterun’s shops, but we had managed to wander outside of Whiterun’s gates and into the fields. We were resting side by side, looking up at the clouds and talking about my upcoming trip to Solitude with Cassius.

            Much had changed in the months since Kodlak’s death, and though I usually welcomed change with open arms, it seemed that the fates had more change planned for me than just becoming the Harbinger of the Companions. The title itself came with many obligations, some of which included meetings with figure-heads in Whiterun, mainly Jarl Balgruuf. Aside from that, I spent my days meeting with clients who had problems they wanted the Companions to deal with, and that came with loads of paperwork.

            Perhaps the most massive change was the surprise Farkas and Vilkas brought to me in the middle of the night so many weeks ago. They had traveled that day to meet the Dragonborn and fight a dragon, but they’d had a change in plans when it was revealed that Skyrim’s greatest hero was actually my brother, Cassius, who I hadn’t seen in an incredible amount of time.

            Things had been so different since then. My brother and I had been inseparable before the ambush that drove us apart in the first place, and we had spent most of our days making up for lost time. Since Cassius’ obligations as the Dragonborn were nothing much shy of flaunting his voice and flirting with strangers, he had all the time in the world to follow me around Jorrvaskr and train with the Companions. He and Farkas had become very close in the time he’d been in Whiterun, and Aela spent a great deal of time with Lydia, my now sister-in-law. The two had very similar personalities.

            That’s how I found myself out with Vilkas on a relatively warm Morndas afternoon. Cassius and Farkas were at the Bannered Mare for a drink, while Lydia and Aela were training with Ria in Jorrvaskr’s courtyard. I had been growing claustrophobic staring my walls all hours of the day, and craved fresh air and some quality time with my favorite moody Nord.

            He had a small smile on his face beneath his beard, which he had grown out in the past months. It was now larger than Farkas’, and inching up on my brother’s. I wondered at first if he was trying to actually change his look, but I soon realized he had just lost motivation to shave at all. Shaving, bathing, even eating, all things he rarely did any more than necessary. He had been rather depressed since Kodlak’s death, and when my brother returned to my life, he seemed happy for me, but I worried it only furthered his sadness over Kodlak’s loss.

            “You want me to accompany you on your trip?” he asked. I couldn’t stop myself from laughing. He look so genuinely confused.

            “Of course I want you to.”

            His brow furrowed, then he looked back up at the clouds. “I doubt your brother would like that.” Vilkas and Cassius had a more complicated relationship. Though they had mutual respect for each other, Cassius was playing the “protective brother” game with Vilkas, and I realized Vilkas was taking it more seriously than the rest of us.

            I rolled my eyes. “Cass will get over it.” I poked his cheek. “Come on, grumpy. It will be fun! I’ll show you all of my favorite places from when I was a youngling, you’ll get to see the dreaded Bard’s College, and you can meet my mother. It’ll be a grand vacation.”

            He looked back over at me, brushing his hair away from his face. “You want me to meet your mother?” I feel him well up with embarrassment, but he felt excitement shortly after.

            I felt my face blush. “Well, uh, yeah. I think she would like you.”

            Vilkas beamed at me for a moment, but his face fell shortly after. “I don’t know, Kara. I don’t want to irritate your brother.”

            I sighed, scooching toward him and resting my head on his shoulder. “You shouldn’t worry so much about Cass. He’s only joking half of the time.”

            “And the other half?”

            “Well…” I laughed. “I know you’re worried about Cass, but I don’t know if I can make this trip without you, Vilkas.” I looked up at him. “The last time I was in Solitude, Cassius and Viarmo seriously hurt each other. I was younger then, weak. Now, I’m not sure that I could control myself if something like that happened.” I shivered, memories of my last day in Solitude pairing with the last time I lost my temper. The beast had a sick sense of humor, laughing within my chest at my concern. “In addition, I don’t think I’ve ever spent more than a few hours away from you. I’m not sure I could keep my sanity.” I poked his cheek again, hoping to earn at least a small laugh from him.

            It worked, and Vilkas chuckled. He kissed the top of my head, leaving his face pressed into my hair. “I would miss you too, pup.” He sighed. “I’ll go to Solitude with you.”

            I tilted my head to kiss him quickly, his beard tickling my cheeks. “Thank you.”

            We were quiet for a while after that, both of us consumed in our own thoughts. I found myself thinking about the day I’d told my brother about Viarmo’s visit to Whiterun.

            _“The damned elf has no right to stick his nose in our business. We’re not his kin.”_

_“I know, Cass, but he seemed so worried. I am too. I’ve done a lot of thinking about it. What if Ma is sick?”_

            He had been very thoughtful for a few minutes. Though he was stubborn and fiery, Cass loved our mother more than anyone in Tamriel. Leaving Solitude the way he did had been hard for him, but he just kept reminding himself that she picked Viarmo over us.

            _“Fine. We’ll go see her.”_

Cass and I had planned the trip a month ago, but we had been waiting for the Burning of King Olaf to pass. Viarmo had always been very involved in that, and usually became very irritable around the time of the celebration. We weren’t sure exactly what day the Bard’s Holiday was, but we knew it took place sometime in Morning Star, so we avoided that month all together.

            Vilkas wrapped his arm around my shoulder, giving me a squeeze and pulling me away from my thoughts. “Maybe I’m wrong. Perhaps I can spend some time with Cassius along the way, really get to know him.”

            “He would like that.” I sat up, looking back at Vilkas. “It will be fun, I promise.”

            Vilkas sat up too, planting a soft kiss on the tip of my nose. “I trust you.” He looked back toward Whiterun. “I’m sure they’ll wonder where we are soon. We should head back, before I give your brother any more incentive to dislike me.”

            “He doesn’t dislike you, Vilkas. Unless that’s your goal, then I would recommend kidnapping me or something along those lines. Maybe hold me for ransom. Make him pay for my return.”

            Vilkas laughed, standing and extending a hand to pull me to my feet. “Maybe tomorrow, pup. For today, we’ll just go home.”

            I jumped up as I stood, excited to have Vilkas in a better mood. “Tomorrow, then.” We locked hands as we headed toward Jorrvaskr.

 

 

            A few hours had passed since we returned home, and I had returned to my study to finish filing some scrolls that I’d been working on. It had taken me a while to understand Kodlak’s filing system, but once I figured out the arrangement, completing the paperwork wasn’t difficult.

            That being said, it was incredibly tedious. Every time someone in Whiterun Hold brought a job to us, it was easy to deal out to another Companion to handle the physical part. The documentation behind it, and the payment paperwork, fell to me. My brain was surging at this point in the evening, and I dropped my head to the desk. I rested it there for a few moments, enjoying the silence.

            It didn’t last long, though. A knock at my door startled me, but I didn’t lift my head from the wooden desk as I invited the unknown visitor in.

            The door opened, and I immediately recognized my brother’s iron boots. “Stressful night?” he said sarcastically, pulling a chair up to me from across the room.

            I sat up, turning to look at him. “I wouldn’t say stressful. Just annoying. And repetitive.” Cassius sat backwards in his chair, his bonded iron chest plate shining as the candles in my room flickered and bounced off of the metal. His exposed arms were folded across the back of the chair, his chin resting on top of them. My brother look so different now. Though we both looked sort of raggedy in our year hunting in the Rift, he looked an entirely different level of unkempt now. His hair had always been long and shaggy, but the beard was new. The scars that surrounded his mouth, no doubt from shouting and breathing fire, were a very prominent part of his face.  When Vilkas brought me to the Dragonborn, I’d hardly recognized him.

            He smirked at me. “I don’t see why you have to take tally of every ass you kick. Just collect the coin and move on.”

             “It’s not for me. Balgruuf and his housecarl like to know what’s happening in their hold.” I said to him, yawning as I said the last words.

            Cass rolled his eyes. “Balgruuf is insufferable. I can’t stand him.”

            “Oh I know. You’ve told me once or twice or a hundred times before. Talking about yourself has always been your favorite hobby.” I gave him a playful nudge.

            He glared at me for a moment, then smiled. “Careful, Karl. Most people know not to piss me off. I eat dragons, you know.” He flicked the scar across my eye, something he taunted me for quite often.

            I laughed. “There you go again, talking about yourself. How does Lydia stand your constant state of conceit?”

            My brother smirked. “Lyd likes it just fine. Loves it, actually.”

            I rolled my eyes. “Did you need something? Or did you just come to bother me?”

            “Actually, Lyd and I were going back to the house later to pack a few things up for the trip. Figured we could have some drinks and play cards too.” He shrugged. “Lyd invited Aela and Farkas. Thought you and Vil might like to come.”

            I grinned. “That actually sounds great, Cass. I need to get out of this place.”

            He raised a brow again. “Didn’t you just spend time out of this place with the gothlord?”

            I glared at him, trying to seem intimidating. “Keep it up, and maybe we won’t come to your little party.”

            “Don’t make promises you won’t keep.” he said with a sly smirk.

             I rested my back in the chair, relaxing before I began a different discussion. “I invited Vilkas to come with us to Solitude. I want him to meet Ma. I hope you’re alright with that.”

            Cass’s face displayed a wide array of emotions very quickly, but it settled on indifference. “Sounds fine to me.”

            Now I was confused. “Oh, I thought you’d be mad.”

            “Mad? No, of course not. I’m happy to have Vil along with us.”

            I laughed a little. “Well, good. Because it wasn’t an option.”

            Cass grinned. “Then it’s not an option that you two come over tonight. Lyd wants to discuss the trip, too.”

            “We’ll be there, then.” As I spoke, Cass gave me a pat on the back and stood.

            “I’ll leave you to your boring files, then.” He walked to the door, slipping through the frame. “See you tonight, then.”


	2. A New Issue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> At Cassius' party, plans for the trip are discussed. Later, Vilkas seeks answers from Karalissa.
> 
> POV: Vilkas

            I studied my hand, and the faces of the room around me. Deciding I had no reason to keep a five, I set it in the discard pile.

            Aela was winning, of course. She and Skjor had spent most of their nights playing Rummy in the mead hall over the years. Though he had taught her the game, she soon became a master strategist and almost always won. I wasn’t far behind her but I was worried, as I discarded my five, about the sly grin she gave me. She had a plan, and I was apparently a pawn.

            Cassius and Lydia were almost tied, but ultimately, Cassius was losing. Of course, that is if you exclude the fact that Farkas and Kara lost a long while ago. Farkas hadn’t quite grasped the concept of the game, and Kara quickly became bored and quit. The two just sat next to each other at the other end of the table, my brother’s head on her shoulder, reading a book out loud.

            “Cass, I saw that.” Lydia said from beside me, her eyes never leaving her cards.

            Across the table, Cassius looked appalled. “What? I didn’t do anything.”

            Lydia looked up then, her eyes darting between Cassius’ face and Aela’s cards. Aela raised her eyebrow, a sly look on her face. Cass looked down at the amount of sets Aela had on the table before her, then shrugged. “Not like looking at her hand is gonna do a damned thing for me, anyway.” He drew and discarded rather quickly.

            Aela smirked. “You’re right.” Aela picked up the card Cass had discarded, placed it in a set with three other cards from her hand, and discarded the only remaining card she had. “Not a damned thing.”

            We all groaned, tossing our cards down on the table as Aela slid her winnings toward her. Lydia gathered all of the cards up, stacking them in a pile and reshuffling.

            As Lydia dealt the cards out, Cassius nudged me with his foot under the table. “You’re coming to Solitude with us, I hear.”

            I nodded. “Yes, Kara asked me today. I hope that’s not at all inconvenient for you.”

            Cass laughed. “Not at all. I was actually dreading a trip across Skyrim with the two of them. Love them both, but I have no desire to sit in awkward silence while the women converse.”

            Lydia raised her eyebrow. “Keep talking.”

            Cassius’ eyes widened, then he rolled them. “All I’m saying is it will be nice to have you along.”

            I scratched my beard. The lower half of my face had been itching nonstop since I’d begun growing it out. “I’m glad to go along. I haven’t left Whiterun in a very long time.” I looked over at Kara, who smiled at me as she continued to read.

            We all picked our hands up, putting our cards in order again. Lydia began the new round, picking up a card and setting down a set. She nudged me with her elbow. “I’m glad you’re coming too. Maybe you can help me keep the Dragonborn in check.” Cass gave her a wink and mouthed the word ‘never’ as Lydia continued. “Now, we’ll be leaving early on Middas to hopefully arrive by Turdas. We want to spend a reasonable amount of time there, but obviously, Karalissa has obligations here in Whiterun.” She looked at Kara. “When will you need to be back?”

            Kara groaned, setting the book down. “I have my monthly meeting with the Jarl on Mondas. If we could, I’d like to be back by Sundas.” Cass grumbled about Balgruuf across from me.

            Lydia nodded. “Three days in Solitude sound like enough, Cassius?”

            Cass shrugged. “Three is plenty. Honestly, my patience with Viarmo will probably run out by Fridas. It’s rather…difficult for me to tolerate him.”

            “He seemed to be a rather demanding man when I met him.” I chimed in. “Well, I wouldn’t say we met, per say. Really, he just barged into our conversation and began interrogating Kara.” I suppressed a shiver as I remembered that day. Though it wasn’t the worst of days, I saw a side of Kara that frightened me. She had more difficulty controlling the beast than the rest of us, yet she had complete control over it. She was convinced that she had absolutely no control over it.

I was worried for her that day, when she stormed out of the Bannered Mare and right up to the edge of a cliff. I remembered being convinced she was going to freefall, toss herself off a cliff rather than let the beast take control of her. I understood later that it was because her ability to read other’s emotions was seriously affecting her own, and she wasn’t even sure what she was feeling. Still, to see her so close to the edge, having to talk her down, it was mind-altering.

            Of course, she seemed to have a better grasp of the beast now. I imagine the turmoil of the previous week, Skjor’s death as well as her own, was just a lot to handle on top of her stepfather’s sudden appearance. Remembering all of this then, it dawned on me that her brother may not know any of this. I imagined she wouldn’t tell him about the beast so soon after his reemergence into her life, but the rest may not be known to him either.

            Cass laughed. “Sounds like he hasn’t changed much.” He set his hand down, shaking his head. “He’s far too demanding. Wants things done his way. I had actually been hoping he may have changed since…” He looked over at Kara, who nodded in understanding. “I guess it doesn’t matter. It’s only for a few days.”

            “We’re going to see Ma. Not Viarmo.” Kara said. Farkas’ head was still resting firmly against her shoulder, but he was looking at me, his brow furrowed in utter confusion at the conversation happening around him. I shrugged to him.

            He sat upright then. “Wait.”

            “What is it, brother?” I asked him.

            “Lissa, who’s in charge while you’re gone?” He looked around the table, waiting for anyone to answer.

            Kara furrowed her brow. “Are you not capable of taking care of yourselves?”

            Aela turned to face Kara from where she sat beside her. “We are, but who’s in charge?”

            Farkas leaned around Kara to look at Aela. “Lissa, you should leave me in charge. I’d be a great leader. I’d be organized and supportive and—”

            “You don’t even know how to spell ‘organized’ or ‘supportive.’” Aela countered.

            Farkas laughed. “You don’t have to be able to spell to kick ass.”

            “Harbingers don’t kick ass, Farkas. They do paperwork.” Aela nudged Kara. “I’m great at paperwork, Lissa. It would blow your mind.”

            Kara leaned on her palm, looking at me and shaking her head. “It’s only a few days. You can make it a few days without a Harbinger.” She said to them.

            The two continued to ignore her. Aela scooted closer to Kara. “What if we have a spider infestation? Farkas couldn’t handle a situation like that.”

            “Oh, and you could handle a skeever infestation?”

            “Please. It’s far more likely that spiders would infiltrate Jorrvaskr.”

            Farkas laughed again. “And what if Njada acts out? You can’t control yourself.”

            Aela thought about that for a moment. “Fine, you could be in charge of just Njada. I could handle the rest.”

            “Aw, that’s not fair!” Farkas put his chin on Kara’s shoulder. “Tell her that’s not fair, Lissa!”

            Kara ran her hands over her face. “Eorland is in charge.”

            Aela and Farkas groaned in unison. Aela put her head on Kara’s other shoulder. “Come on, Lissa.” she said. “All Eorland does is forge. He’s never even in Jorrvaskr.”

            “All the more reason to leave him in charge. You’re grown men and women. Look after yourselves for less than a week.”

            Aela sat up, mocking a pout. “You’re no fun.” She turned back to the card game, picking up a card.

 

            Later that night, most of Jorrvaskr had gone to sleep. Though a few were still up and drinking, I could hear Kara shuffling about in her room a few doors down. I had been trying to throw a few things together to bring to Solitude, but the sound of Kara moving around was proving to be rather distracting. I left my room, heading toward the door at the end of the long hallway.

            I didn’t bother knocking, knowing she wouldn’t hear it from her actual bedroom. I pushed the door open, striding across her study to the doors that divided this room from her actual chambers. I stopped suddenly before I knocked.

            I leaned against the door frame, relaxing my head against the wooden arch and crossing my arms. She was packing no doubt, but she was singing quietly to herself. It sounded like Tale of Tongues, but she didn’t know half of the words, and she was half-humming the parts she didn’t know. I laughed quietly, wondering why she didn’t pick a song she knew all of the words to. I closed my eyes, listening to her soft tune and silently cursing myself for being so irrevocably in love with her.

            After a few moments, I knocked on the door. She opened it shortly after, her face lighting up when she saw me. “Hi, stranger.” She poked my chin. “You look a lot like a man I know under all of that beard.”

            I tried not to laugh, but I couldn’t help myself. “Can I come in?”

            She stepped to the side, letting me through the doorway. I sat on the side of her bed, watching her as she continued to pack. She was wearing her usual ratty pajamas, but her hair wasn’t up like it usually was at night. It was long and flowing over her shoulders.

            “I wanted to talk to you about something, pup.”

            She looked over her shoulder at me, trying to judge the seriousness of the conversation. “Am I in trouble?”

            I laughed again. “No.”

            She leaned against the dresser across from me, an eyebrow raised. “What would you like to talk about, then?”

            “Your brother’s distaste for the elf.” I watched her face, deciding whether or not I should continue. She seemed confused. “I was wondering what started their fight. The one that caused you two to leave Solitude.”

            Kara’s face was emotionless for a moment, then she nodded. She crossed her arms, looking more unenthusiastic than I’d ever seen her. “Hmm.” was the only thing she said in response.

            “We don’t have to talk about it, if you don’t want to. I’d just been thinking about what you said this morning. That you weren’t sure if you’d be able to control yourself.” I scratched my beard, a sudden itch forming on my chin. “Cassius doesn’t seem to want to fight, so why are you preparing to?”

            Kara took a few breaths before she answered. “It’s a very long story.”

            I nodded. “I assumed so. Take your time.”

            She walked across the room to sit in the chair in the corner. She folded one of her knees to her chest, letting the other one hang free as she launched into her tale. “Viarmo and Cassius didn’t ever get along, but I didn’t get along with him either.” She leaned back in the chair. “I’ve never been as hot-headed as Cass, but I never liked Viarmo. I just had a…calmer way of dealing with him.

            “When he and my mother were married, I was actually very happy for them. I don’t remember my father at all, so I could only ever remember her being sad. When she found someone who made her happy, I couldn’t have been more excited for her. Cass was a bit more stubborn, but he was almost seven when our father left us for the war. Ours was the only father he wanted.

            “Once they married, they left us at the Bard’s College to travel Skyrim. We both hated the College. Even though Cass liked the attention that came with it, there was nothing there for us. We’re warriors, not poets or musicians. When they returned, Viarmo wanted us out of the house, and mother just let him do what he wanted.

            “Viarmo had been trying to arrange to send Cassius away, in more ways than one. First he tried an arranged marriage with his niece, but Cass obviously wanted nothing to do with that. Then he tried the Imperial Legion, trying to convince him to join.” She paused, waiting for me to respond somehow.

            “But he supported Ulfric. He wanted nothing to do with the Legion.” I said, nodding to her. She seemed so nervous.

            “Yes. But this day, Viarmo changed his tactic. I don’t know if he was drunk or just stupid, but he was saying horrible things about our father. He’d never even met the man, and he was saying these ridiculous things about him. It was bothering Cassius, of course, but he was just sitting there and simmering. I knew he was angry, but I just remember him clenching and unclenching his fists, trying to control himself.”

            Kara sat up then, straightening herself out, but looking at her hands in her lap. “He started talking horribly about our mother, too. She was sitting right there, listening to all of what he was saying, and she was just silent. I remember yelling at her, asking her why she was letting him do this, why she was letting him send us away.

“She never answered me, but Viarmo did. He was in my face, yelling a bunch of nonsense at me, about how my brother and I were the product of two worthless people, so we must be twice as bad. He said it was great we got our mother’s looks though, because that would make it easier to pawn us off to someone else. Make us someone else’s problem.”

            Kara looked up at me, her eyes so confused. “I don’t know what happened to me, Vilkas. I’ve never been an angry person, but something about the way he was just…objectifying us. Treating us like we weren’t people. We were like an old couch that dampened his living room. It made me crazy.”

            “It would make anyone angry, Kara. You’re not crazy.”

            She shrugged. “Well, I lashed out, shoved him away from me, and he grabbed my face and told me I had no right to touch him. That’s what sent Cass over the edge.” She shook her head. “They beat the hell out of each other. I think Cass may have killed him if he hadn’t heard my mother crying.” Her eyes were so distant, remembering.

            “After we left, I kept apologizing to Cassius, trying to take all of the blame for what happened, but he wouldn’t hear it. His face was all bruised and bloody, his lips were busted. He just kept saying, ‘I don’t want to talk about it, Karl. I don’t want to talk about it.’” She shrugged. “So we never talked about it.”

            I shook my head. “And you still haven’t?”

            “Nope.” She looked at me then, her face full of concern. She spoke in a very low voice. “That’s why I’m worried, Vilkas. If I were to lose my temper again, I wouldn’t push him. I would transform and tear him apart in my mother’s living room.”

            “You have more control over yourself than you think, Kara.” I said it to comfort her, but I meant it too.

            She laughed quietly. “You should have heard the things the beast was telling me to do when Viarmo came to Whiterun. You’d be worried too.”

            I thought about that for a moment, then stood and kneeled beside her chair. I put my hand on her leg, trying to offer her some comfort. “The trip will be fine. I’m sure the elf learned his lesson when your brother let loose on him.”

            Kara smiled a little. “I hope so.”

            “And even if he hasn’t changed, what can he do? You’re grown Nords now. He can’t do anything but cower at the fact that one of his wife’s children could eat him alive, and the other could kill him with a simple word.”

            She laughed at that and scooted forward to wrap her arms around my neck for a hug. I held her tightly, trying to squeeze away any doubt she had. “Thank you. I needed that.”

            “Of course. I would do anything to keep you happy, pup.”

            She kissed my cheek, just below my eye. “ _You_ make me happy.”

            “Good.” I said, pulling her in for a longer kiss.


	3. New Conversations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cassius has a lot to discuss with Lydia, but then again, he has a lot to discuss with Karalissa. Cassius hates discussions, though.
> 
> POV: Cassius

            “Cass, you only packed three outfits.”

            I looked over my shoulder at Lydia, who was sitting in her usual chair in the corner of our room. She was going through our bags, making sure we hadn’t forgotten anything. I shrugged. “Yeah. So?”

            She narrowed her eyes at me. “We’ll be gone for five days. Are you going to repeat outfits?”

            I shrugged again. “I guess.” I turned to look at her, leaning against the dresser. “You wear the same armor every day.”

            Lydia rolled her eyes. “Many different sets of the same armor.” She pulled my clothes out, laying them on the table. “You need more than three outfits.”

            “Fine.” I rummaged through the dresser and pulled out two sets of leather armor. I tossed them toward her, and she caught them both with one hand.

            “When do you ever wear leather?”

            “I don’t” When she furrowed her brow, I laughed. “You said I had to pack more clothes. Not wear more clothes.”

            Lydia groaned. “You’re disgusting.”

            I laughed louder, then went back to what I was doing in the first place. Lyd had limited me to only bringing two weapons, so I’d been polishing and sharpening for hours.

            “How early do you want to leave in the morning?” I asked her, looking down at the broadsword in my hand.

            “Hmm. Early.” She mumbled, folding and packing her own clothes. Then she looked over at me. “You did tell your sister we were leaving early, right?”

            I rolled my eyes. “Nope. But you did. Twice.”

            She let out a sigh, then laughed a little. “Sorry. I guess I’m nervous.”

            I looked up at her, setting the sword to the side. “What’s there to be nervous about?”

            “I don’t know.” She shrugged. “I’m worried she won’t like me.”

            Trying to contain a laugh, and failing miserably, I earned a glare from Lyd. I shook my head, and stood to walk to the table. I pulled out the chair beside her and sat, resting my elbow on the table and relaxing my head on my palm. “You have nothing to worry about.”

            “How can you know that? You have no idea what kind of woman she wanted you to end up with. I’m a warrior. I’ll never stitch clothing for our children. I’m a dreadful cook.” She shook her head. “I’m not a housewife. I just don’t want to disappoint her.”

            I knew that Lydia’s definition of a ‘perfect woman’ was a bit skewed. Her childhood was dominated by more brothers than you could count on one hand and a mother who catered to her father’s every wish. She had been raised to believe that a wife was responsible for keeping her man happy, but she didn’t seem to understand yet that just her existence made me the happiest man alive.

            “None of that shit matters, Lyd.” She still seemed unconvinced. “Our children will probably look great without clothes, and if they don’t, we’ll just buy some. I don’t need you to be a chef. I would eat raw horker everyday if it would spare you the inconvenience of slaving over a pot.” I held her face in my hands. “I didn’t marry you so you would be my servant, Lyd. I married you because I want to spend my life making you just as happy as you make me.”

            She smiled, the sides of her eyes crinkling. “You’re so great at speeches.” She was blushing, her cheeks warm against my palms.

            “That I am.” I said with a wink. “Lydia, my mother will love you. Almost as much as I do.” I pulled her face toward me to kiss her, long enough to erase any worries she had.

            As we separated, she smiled. “I love you too, Cassius.” Then she raised an eyebrow. “On the topic of worry, why don’t you get it off of your chest now?”

            I scowled at her. “What are you talking about?”

            Lyd leaned back in her chair. “I know for a fact that there are two things bothering you. I figure it would be better to talk about them now instead of letting them simmer.”

            I glared at her. “How can you possibly know that?”

            She shrugged. “Call it ‘female intuition’.” She smirked. “Or, just consider the fact that you’ve been doing the same thing all day. You polish the same sword, do a lap around the house, look through that dresser for something unknown to me, and probably yourself, and then you sit back down and polish again.”

            “I do not.”

            She stared at me, her eyebrow still raised.

            “Damn smart Nord.” I said, a grin stretching across my face. “Fine. Pick your poison.”

            She leaned toward me. “What is so upsetting about your sister?”

            I felt my smile fade into a grimace. “Karl is different.”

            “I’m sure she thinks the same about you, Cassius.”

            I shook my head. “No, Lyd. This is really different.” I leaned back in my chair. “Karalissa has always been unnaturally happy. From the time we were little to the day we were separated. Even that day when that damned elf…she was just a happy person.”

            Lydia looked confused. “She seems to be fairly happy now.”

            “It’s not real. Not genuine.” I told her. “She’s faking it.”

            Lydia nodded. “Aela and I have talked about the loss they experienced, the amount of death they saw in the last year. They don’t talk about it much at all. I imagine it was difficult.”

            I considered that for a moment, but I was still unconvinced. “Farkas said something along those lines too, but I don’t think that’s it. She acts like she doesn’t trust herself.”

            “I did notice that, too.” Lyd said. “She seems to be a bit more on-edge than the others. It could be stress, from the amount of work she has to do?”

            I shook my head. “No. Karl stress-eats.” Lyd looked really confused at that, so I explained. “Whenever something is truly bugging her, she literally eats her bodyweight in anything available. It’s gross.” I rubbed my face. “She doesn’t want to talk about it. I’ve told her all about my years away from her, the places I’ve been, the things I’ve seen. But I get very little from her in return. And Karalissa has always been a talker. Gives little, unimportant details.”

            “What’s your plan, then?”

            I thought for a moment. “I guess I’ll have to ease my way into it, try to make her feel like she can tell me.” I shrugged. “Or I’ll talk to the gothlord.”

            Lydia laughed. “Which brings us to issue number two.”

            I sighed, covering my face with my hands. “I think he’s in love with her.”

            “He is. But she’s in love with him too. Just as much.”

            I groaned, even gagged a little. “I know. Damnit, that’s so gross.”

            Lydia laughed, a little too hard. “What’s so gross about it?”

            “I don’t know, Lyd. It’s Karalissa. I’m happy for her and everything, and I like Vil enough, but it’s just the idea of her old enough to be in love. It makes my stomach turn.” I dropped my head to the table.

            “Aww.” Lyd poked my neck, trying to tickle me. “You’re such a softy.”

            I smiled, though she couldn’t see it, and swatted her hands away. “Keep it up, and I’ll leave you for a tailor. Someone who can make my children some clothes.”

            Lydia laughed, standing up and tickling my sides. “Softy. Softy. Softy.” She continued to chant as I squirmed away from her, falling out of my chair. She erupted into a fit of melodic giggles.

            I pulled the leather armor from our bag on the floor and tossed it at her, hitting her in the face. She grunted, tossing it to the side and throwing the liquid contents of a tankard at me. The mead splashed against my bare cheeks, and I blinked it away.

            With anyone else, I would have roasted them alive. But for Lydia, who simply laughed and waited for me to react, I couldn’t stop myself from grinning and grabbing a loaf of bread and chunking it at her face.

            Our night ended in a full-blown food fight, and we didn’t even bother to clean it up before we retired to our bed to sleep.

 

            No matter how I tried to zone out, I couldn’t distract myself from the rocking of the wagon. It was starting to make me nauseous, the constant movement. I uncovered my eyes, pushing the borrowed cowl away from my face, and I was quickly greeted harshly by bright afternoon sun.

Lydia was asleep against my shoulder, cradling my arm like a child’s toy. I would have laughed if she wasn’t so damned cute. Karalissa was curled up on the other side of the wagon, leaning her back against Vilkas’ shoulder. She was reading a book, like always, and he was also reading silently over the top of her head. Every few minutes, she would look up at him, waiting for him to nod, indicating he was also ready to turn the page.

            I watched the two of them for a while, reading nearly in sync. It was so fascinating to see two people so alike that they could so easily do the same shared activity. I couldn’t stop myself from smiling, looking at my sister. She was so mature, but so young. I knew I was partly to blame, having snatched her from her childhood so quickly in my anger all those years ago. She had always acted much older than her age, though, and it was nice to see that it hadn’t changed.

            She must have felt me watching, and she looked over at me. “What’s wrong?” Vilkas looked over too, confused.

            I looked at the scar that dominated the right side of her face, which had been turned away from me a moment ago. I felt myself growing angry about it, that something had hurt my little sister, but I quickly pushed it away.

I gave her a smile, but shook my head. “Nothing.”

            She handed the book to Vilkas, who took it gratefully and continued reading. He marked her place though before he flipped the page.

            Karalissa sighed, leaning back against Vilkas again. “How much longer, do you think?”

            I shrugged. “Not too much longer, I hope. We passed Morthal not too long ago.”

            She groaned. “It feels like years.” Vilkas laughed quietly beside her.

            “That’s the damned truth.” I nodded my head toward my sleeping wife. “Lyd wants to stay in the Winking Skeever. Think Corpulus is still running the joint?”

            Karalissa grinned. “I don’t know, brother. Sorex may have taken over by now. Gods, can we be that old?”

            I laughed, nudging Vilkas’ foot with my own. “Better watch out, Companion. Sorex always fancied my sister. Used to follow her all around Solitude trying to court her.”

            My sister glared at me, but Vilkas laughed. “Doesn’t surprise me. Kara received two marriage proposals her first night at Jorrvaskr.”

            Now Karalissa laughed. “I’d forgotten all about that, Vilkas.” She looked up at him. “I didn’t even realize you’d heard them. We were on the other side of the room.”

            Vilkas grinned, but never looked up from the book. “I hear everything, pup.” He looked up at me and quickly looked away as he used the nickname. He seemed embarrassed.

            “You were with the Companions before my sister, I assume.” I said to him, trying to spark some conversation to distract me from the wagon’s constant rocking.

            Vilkas looked up at me again, setting the book aside. “I thought Farkas would have told you. He and I were raised in Jorrvaskr.”

            I furrowed my brow. “What, you mean like you were born there?”

            He shook his head. “No, we were brought to Jorrvaskr when we were very young. Our father left to fight in the war, and he never came back for us. So the Companions adopted us.”

            Interesting. “I didn’t know that.” I nodded toward my sister. “Our father never came back from the war either.”

            Vilkas looked down at Karalissa. “I didn’t know that either.”

            She shrugged. “I don’t remember him. I guess I was too small.” She looked at me. “How old would I have been, Cass?”

            I thought for a moment. “I was six, so you must have been a year old. No way could you have remembered him.” I nodded, a smile on my face. “He was a great man.”

            Vilkas grimaced at me, absorbing the information I had given him. “I’m sure you’re a lot like him.”

            I was pretty sure it was a compliment, so I nodded to him. “I try to be.” Vilkas nodded, obviously embarrassed at the niceness we were expressing toward each other, and returned to his book.

            Karalissa leaned her head against him again. “I wanted to discuss something with you, brother.”

            “Sure, Karl.”

            She sighed. “I think we need to get some time alone with Ma. I want to talk to her about that day, get a few things off of my chest. I’d rather not have Viarmo around for that.”

            I thought for a moment about that, not having to ask her what day she was talking about. I remembered it so vividly. It wasn’t the first time I’d been in a fight, but it was the first time I didn’t regret hurting someone. I’d always been very hotheaded, but that day I’d been able to control myself. I sat while he spit accusations at my sister and me, called us foul names, and insulted our father. I just absorbed it, ready to turn a cold shoulder and move forward. It had actually been relatively easy.

            It wasn’t until Karalissa reacted that I was even really listening to him. Then, when he got hold of her face, it made everything clear. The way he could so quickly rough my sister around, it meant he was rough with my mother too. The thought of him hurting her was too much for me, and I couldn’t stop myself.

            “There’s nothing more to say about it, Karalissa. It happened. It’s over.” I took a deep breath, exhaling quickly. “We’re going to see if Ma’s alright, see why she sent for us. Not reopen old wounds.”

            Karalissa stared at me like I was crazy. “Viarmo is a bad man, Cass. We have to—”

            “He’s not a man. Men don’t try to make other people feel small. Men don’t cut people down to justify their own faults. Men don’t hit women.” I felt Thu’um building in my chest as I grew increasingly angry.

            “You know, then? That he must hurt her.” My sister, straightened up, turning to face me completely.

            I looked over at Vilkas, whose eyes were firmly planted on his book. “I’m not stupid, Karalissa. And I’d rather not discuss this anymore.” I looked away. “Not in front of company.”

            Karalissa looked pissed. “Vilkas knows, Cass. Vilkas knows everything about me.”

            “Debatable.” Vilkas grumbled beside her, confirming he wasn’t reading at all.

            My sister held her hand up at him, and he smirked. “Regardless, he listens to me when I talk about something that’s difficult to discuss. Stop shutting me out, Cassius.”

            “I’m not shutting you out, Karl. I’m trying to shut you up. It’s not anyone’s business but theirs.”

            “She’s our mother, Cass. She has to leave him.” As she spoke, I covered my eyes again.

            “She would have left him by now if she wanted to. She never will.” I uncovered my eyes. “And if that’s why you’re making this trip, to convince her to leave him, then you’re more stupid and childish than I already thought.”

            At that blow, Karalissa began to tremble. I glared at her, wondering what the hell her problem was. Then I watched as Vilkas set the book down and put his hand on her arm. She shut her eyes, taking a deep breath to stop her tremors. I sat up, watching her shaking come to a stop.

            “What the hell was that?” I asked her, rousing Lydia from her sleep.

            Karalissa just laughed at me, reaching into her pack for a different book. She returned to her original position, leaning her back against Vilkas’ arm. “Just being stupid and childish, brother.” She looked down at her opened book. “Stupid and childish.”

            Vilkas and Lydia exchanged a very awkward glance, then pretended to be preoccupied by something unknown. I simmered for a moment, angry at my sister and at myself.

            “Look, I’m sorry, Karl.” I said to her, rubbing the back of my neck.

            “Oh I’m sorry too, Cassius.” she said, her eyes never leaving her book. “Sorry for assuming you could have gained an ounce of maturity in our time away from each other.” She looked over at me then. “Maybe I am being stupid and childish, but at least I’m thinking of someone other than myself. We’re right back where we started. I try to tell you what I feel and you just shut me out. Just like you always have.”

            “Maybe if you weren’t so emotional and needy, we wouldn’t need to talk about it.”

            She laughed. “And maybe if you weren’t so cold and unfeeling you wouldn’t have to justify your emotional unavailability by insulting me.”

            I glared at her for a moment, but she just looked back at her book. I looked over at Lydia, who just stared back at me. She looked angry, but when I raised my hands in defense, she nodded to my sister. She mouthed the word ‘apologize’ to me. I shook my head, but she just glared.

            I groaned. “For the record, Karalissa, I’m not cold and unfeeling. I love Ma very much, and I know you think you can help her. I just don’t. She picked him, Karl. She picked him, and she let us leave.” I sighed. “I’m just angry that she didn’t pick us.”

            Karalissa blinked, but she looked at me again. “I know.” She said, closing the book. “I am too. And all I want to know is why she did.”

            I nodded. “Okay. I’ll talk to her with you.” I scratched my beard. “And Karl? I really am sorry.”

            She nodded. “I am, too.”


	4. New Worries

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lydia and Vilkas talk over drinks. 
> 
> POV: Lydia

            We arrived in Solitude late Middas evening, earlier than I had initially imagined. It was actually rather satisfying, to be able to sleep before going to meet Cassius’ family. Party because I wanted to be fresh and level-headed, but mostly because I know he gets irritable when he doesn’t sleep enough.

            Unfortunately, only one of those things would be likely to happen. Since I had slept for so long on the ride there, I couldn’t sleep a wink. Though Cassius was out the second his head hit the pillow, I couldn’t shut my brain off. I had found myself at the bar in the Winking Skeever, lulling over a tankard while I wallowed in my own thoughts. My head was swimming with possible scenarios that could unravel, and proper ways to react in certain situations.

            Mostly, I was nervous Cassius’ mother wouldn’t care for me. Though I enjoyed Cassius’ beautifully crafted speech about how she would like me, it was still difficult to imagine anyone’s initial reaction. The two of us would just have to agree to disagree, as we usually did.

            In all honesty, Cass and I very rarely agreed on anything. We never did. When I was appointed to be his housecarl, I had actually been irritated. I had gone to Jarl Balgruuf to join the guards of Whiterun Hold. After being a blade for hire for so many years after leaving home, I had grown tired of living someone else’s adventure. I wanted to settle down and have a cozy job that didn’t require following some thick-skulled Nord around and doing their bidding.

            That’s exactly what I got, as my luck would have it. Appointed to be the Dragonborn’s housecarl. I remember how the entire cloud district cracked up when I asked what exactly a housecarl was, and how furious I was when they explained that I would have the exact life I never wanted. I would be someone’s maid. Someone’s servant.

            The fates had a different plan for me on that day. To my great surprise, the Dragonborn, though incredibly hot-tempered and self-absorbed, was actually rather lonely. He invited me on every one of his adventures. All, except one.

            My thoughts were interrupted as the seat beside me was pulled out and Vilkas sat down. He held two tankards, one in each hand. As he relaxed, he pushed one in my direction.

            “Thought you could use a refill if you’re as nervous as I am.” he said, taking a long swig from the metal cup.

            I grinned, finishing my first glass and reaching for the one he’d brought me. “Thanks.” I said to him, and I received a grunt in return. “What are you nervous for?”

            He raised an eyebrow at me from over the brim of his mug. He finished the drink, and raised his hand to the bartender, signaling for a refill. “Same as you, probably.”

            “You’re meeting your husband’s mother tomorrow?”

            Vilkas laughed. “I am in fact. Maybe you can meet him before we leave.” We shared a laugh as a red-headed Nord set two more mugs on the bar top.

            We both swallowed some more liquor, relaxing before we continued to chat. I watched him drink, a small smile on my face. “What are you really nervous about?”

            Vilkas set his mug down, leaning back and letting the mead calm his nerves. “A confrontation, mostly.” He thought for a moment, then shrugged. “That’s why Kara asked me to come. She’s worried there will be some sort of fight.”

            I felt my forehead crease in confusion. “She expects another fight?”

            “Well, I’m not so sure that she expects one, but rather is preparing for the worst and hoping for the best. That’s how she usually approaches things.” He shrugged, taking another drink. “She probably hopes I’ll have the muscle to restrain your husband.”

            I finished my second drink before responding. “You know that’s not the only reason she invited you, right?”

            Vilkas smiled a little. “Aye. I know.”

            I offered a small laugh. “I haven’t had the opportunity to really get to know her. It’s odd, the idea of having a sister, of sorts.”

            “You don’t have any siblings?” he asked.

            I really laughed then. “Oh no. I have six older brothers.”

            Vilkas nearly spat his drink across the bar. “Six?” he asked me, coughing the word out around inhaled liquor.

            “Yes, six.” I said, grinning as I watched him wipe liquid from his beard.

            “Is that where you got your inclination to be a warrior? Raised in a house of boys?”

            My smile fell a little at the question, but I quickly brought it back. “Actually, no. They weren’t very nice to me when I was young. Half of them pretended I didn’t exist for almost a year.” I grinned, remembering my childhood. “I spent most of my time with my, uh, youngest older brother.”

            Vilkas finished his third drink. “What’s he like?”

            “He’s great. Probably married now, with a few little farmers running around.”

            “You haven’t seen him in a while, then.”

            I shook my head. “No, not since I left home.” I shrugged. “But that was a long time ago. What about you? Is Farkas your only family?”

            Vilkas’ face fell. “Aye.”

            “Has it always been like that?”

            He thought for a moment. “No, not always. But recently, yes.”

            I reached for his arm, patting him quickly. “I’m sorry to hear that.”

            Vilkas shrugged, then smiled a little. “Things were absolutely perfect for a moment. An incredibly blissful few days.”

            I rested my elbow on the table, leaning my face against my closed fist. “Tell me about it. Were they the best days of your life?”

            He exhaled, thinking about that. “Well, they were very good. It was the week following the day Kara was officially inducted into the Companions.” He laughed a little. “Things were perfect. There was no fighting, no battle; nothing but peace.”

            “Things changed, though?”

            “Aye. Nothing wonderful ever lasts very long. I assume Aela has told you about Skjor.”

            I furrowed my brow. “I’ve never heard the name. Who is Skjor?”

            Vilkas stared at me for a moment, as if he thought I was joking. “Farkas and Aela don’t tell you two anything, do they?” When I shook my head, Vilkas grunted. “Skjor was a Companion. He was supposed to be the next Harbinger.”

            “What changed?” I tried to ask as politely as possible. Obviously, something colossal happened, because Karalissa was the Harbinger.

            Vilkas signaled the red-head for two more drinks, though I doubted one was for me this time. After drinking another whole tankard, he explained. “They went out…hunting. Skjor and Aela and Karalissa.” He began his fifth drink. “They were attacked, and Skjor was lost. Kara nearly was, too.” He sniffed. “We lost a lot of people recently.”

            I felt a pang of sadness in my heart seeing the sorrow spread across his face. Cassius and I had made an attempt to connect all of the dots with the Companions, what had happened, without actually asking. I hadn’t known so much death was involved.

            “Things are better now, though?” I asked, trying to lighten his mood.

            Vilkas smirked beneath his beard. “Aye. Better.” He shook his head then. “I suppose I’m just bitter. Our most recent Harbinger, Kodlak, he was a father to me and Farkas. When he died, I lost most of my interest in the things I used to love.” He finished the fifth drink. “I guess being here is difficult, meeting Kara’s mother when I know I can never bring her to meet my family.”

            I felt so bad for him all of sudden, but I didn’t let it show. “Why agree to come, then? If it actually pains you to be reminded of this, why accompany us?”

            Vilkas scowled. “There’s no escaping it. The pain is constant.” Then, his scowl stretched into a smile. “But it’s Kara. She’s getting me through it. All of it.” He looked at me, his cheeks a deep shade of red in embarrassment. “She reminds me of everyone I’ve ever known, yet she’s someone I’ve never met before. There isn’t anything I wouldn’t do for her, and if she wants me to meet her mother, I’m honored.”

            I smiled too, glad to know so much that was supposed to be a secret. “Thank you for telling me all of that, Vilkas.” I finished the drink in front of me, unsure at this point of the count. “I’ve wanted to spend some time with Karalissa, get to know her. She’s just so busy all the time, and I always feel like I’m intruding on her. I don’t want to give her any incentive not to like me.”

            Vilkas laughed rather loudly, shaking in his seat from pure enthusiasm. “You’re joking.” He said, but when I shook my head, he leaned toward me. “I feel the exact same way about Cassius. I want to get to know him, but I’m worried he already dislikes me.”

            We both laughed in genuine amusement as the red-headed Nord put two more drinks in front of us. I raised my mug, and he raised his. “To trying not to make the Felstead siblings dislike us. Because if Karalissa is anything like my husband when she’s angry, we’re in trouble.”

            A new kind of smile stretched across Vilkas’ face as we clanked our mugs together and took a swig. “You have no idea.”


	5. New Feelings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Back at home, Aela and Farkas are up to their usual antics: drinking and talking and placing bets.
> 
> POV: Aela the Huntress

            “You’re going to drink it all!” I yelled to Farkas, who was chugging a bottle of Alto wine we found in the whelps’ quarters. He pulled the bottle away from his lips, and placed it in my outstretched hand.

            He and I were sitting cross-legged on the floor of my bedroom, drinking and talking as we had been for hours. This was how we spent most of our time, but with Eorland sort of paroling the halls, we were being a little sneakier.

            Farkas started to giggle, becoming top-heavy and falling backwards onto his back. He laid on the floor, laughing to himself. I cocked my head to the side. “What’s so funny?”

            He looked over at me, a smile firm against his cheeks. “Aela, we would be terrible Harbingers.”

            I don’t know what it was, but the thought of both us in charge was actually very funny. I found myself laughing too as I leaned across the floor to grab another bottle of wine. I rolled it toward him so he could open it. The corks were on too tight for me.

            “Why is Lissa so good at it?” I asked as Farkas passed the bottle back. “Why is she so good at everything?”

            “No, no. There has to be something she’s bad at.” he said, looking up at the ceiling. We sat in silence for a moment, trying to think of something. Farkas turned his head toward me after a while. “I bet she’s really bad at maces.”

            I gasped. “I bet you’re right! She’s probably really bad at maces!” I took a sip, then widened my eyes. “And I bet Vilkas is bad at maces too!”

            Farkas nodded. “He is. He’s terrible at using maces.” He looked confused then. “Aela, are we good at maces?”

            I wiggled around in excitement. “We could be. We should train tomorrow!”

            “Yes!” Farkas exclaimed, and we both high-fived. “By the time they get back, they’re gonna be so jealous.”

            “Yeah, we’ll be great at maces and they won’t be.” I took another sip, relaxing against my bed. “What else is Lissa bad at?”

            Farkas laughed, rubbing his hands against his face. “Why do you need Lissa to be—” He burped, cutting his stream of words off. “—bad at something?”

            I groaned, kicking my feet aimlessly. “I don’t know. There just has to be something. She can’t be good at everything.”

            “Neither can you. Neither can any of us.” He grabbed my boot and wiggled my foot. “Stop trying so hard to be the best at everything.”

            I sighed as I stared at him, trying to make sense of his words. “If I’m not the best at something, I’m the worst.”

            “Who told you that?”

            I coughed, thinking for a moment. “My father.” I handed the bottle back to Farkas. “He wanted to raise perfect warriors. My father was a perfect swordsman. My mother was a perfect warrior and a perfect Companion.”

            Farkas sat up and leaned against the bed next to me. He passed the bottle back to me. “Why does that mean you have to be perfect?”

            I took a few sips before I answered. “I don’t know.”

            He shrugged. “So stop trying.”

            “I don’t know if I can.”

            Farkas laughed again. “Don’t know if you don’t try.”

            “Drunken resolutions.” I remarked, laughing. “Fine. But if I have to stop striving, you have to stop something too. We’re turning over a new leaf.”

            “What?” Farkas asked. As usual, he didn’t quite get metaphors.

            “It means we’re making changes.”

            “Don’t know what that has to do with leaves. Whatever you say, though.” He rested his head against my mattress. “What do I have to change?”

            “You have to…” I thought for a moment, then I snapped my fingers. “You have to give at least one person in Jorrvaskr an unusual complement every day.”

            He looked confused. “Unusual. Like what?”

            “Unusual like…instead of telling Torvar his battle stance is good, tell him his hair looks nice. Or instead of complimenting Ria’s swing, tell her she looks pretty.”

            Farkas groaned. “Everyone is going to think I’m looking to court them.”

            I laughed at how displeased he looked. “If you want me to stop trying to be perfect, you have to make everyone else feel like they already are.”

            He thought for a moment, then nodded his head. “Fine. For you.”

            “Great.” I said, nudging him with my elbow. “I feel imperfect already.”

            “You are.” Farkas noted. “Imperfect.”

            I was angry for a moment. “How? What’s wrong with me?”

            Farkas mumbled in thought. “You’re really bad at doing things for yourself.” I felt my brow furrow, but Farkas continued. “For someone who says she likes to be alone, you’re really bad at not taking care of other people.” He reached up to brush some hair away from my face. “And you’re really, really bad at being ugly.”

            My head was swimming from all the liquor, but beyond that, everything was clear. I tried to think of all of the reasons not to have feelings for Farkas, as I had tried for months. I thought of our positions in the Companions, and how ultimately, it didn’t even matter. I thought of our personalities, so different that we should clash, yet we fit together perfectly. I thought of Skjor, but I knew he wouldn’t want me to consider his feelings anymore if it would affect my own happiness.

            It was for all of these reasons that when Farkas left his hand against my cheek, waiting for me to say something, I just smiled. And when he leaned forward to kiss me, looking so unsure but so eager, I closed my eyes and let him. Let him love me. Let myself feel loved again.

            And it was absolutely perfect.


	6. New Family

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The group finally meets with Cassius and Karalissa's mother. Later, Lydia gives Vilkas some advice. 
> 
> POV: Vilkas

            I leaned against the wall beside Kara, watching the group’s nervous anticipation grow more and more evident. Early on our second day in Solitude, the day we were going to meet Kara and Cassius’ mother, we all sat at the bar in the Winking Skeever, just as Lydia and I had the night before.

            After our discussion, Lydia and I had stayed up most of the night sharing stories about our travels and duties. She reminded me a lot of myself, and Aela, which was an odd combination, but a good one. Though tired, we were both relatively relaxed, Kara and Cassius, though, had woken twice as nervous as they were the day before. So, Lydia had suggested we all have a drink to take the edge off before we head into town.

            Kara looked especially pretty on that day, her long hair tucked behind her ear on one side as she stared down at the tankard of mead in her hands. She and I were both just listening in on her brother talking to Lydia, who was managing to seem nothing but confident though she had just admitted her own worry to me the night before.

            I put my hand on Kara’s back, trying to bring her some reassurance. She looked up at me, a smile on her face, but her eyes betrayed her discomfort. She was worried.

            I leaned down to her exposed ear. “Don’t be nervous, pup. It’s just your mother.”

            “I know.” She said, a little bit of a laugh in her voice.

            “Maybe later you could show me around Solitude.” I suggested in a low voice. “I’ve never been here, you know.”

            Her eyes lit up then. “Really? Never?” When I shook my head, a big grin stretched across her face. “Then I _have_ to show you around. Solitude is so much bigger than Whiterun, so different. I could show you all of the best stores and shops and the places with the best views.”

            “A little shopping, maybe?” I asked, rekindling one of our longest running jokes.

            She smiled softer then, and she nodded before she spoke. “Anything. Just to spend the day with you.” We both smiled at each other, remembering the first time we’d had this conversation.

            A few moments later, we turned back to the two beside us, who were carrying a conversation with the bartender.

            Cassius spoke to the redheaded man. “Tell me, my good man, anything special happening at the college right now? Any events we might catch while we’re in town?”

            “Ha. Cassius, you know good and well that the Burning of King Olaf was last month.”

            Cass mocked disappointment. “Damn it!” He turned to Kara. “We missed the Burning, Karl.”

            Kara shook her head. “What a shame. I could have sworn it was this month.”

            Cass nodded, turning back to the bartender. “So we have no means of entertainment, Corpulus. I guess we could always wander up to the college ourselves. See if our _father_ could wrangle up some bards to play for our guests.” He gestured to Lydia. “Have you met my wife yet, Corpulus?”

            The bartender shook his head. “I kept a drink in her hand last night, but I can’t say we were properly introduced.” He shook Lydia’s hand, who beamed at him and exchanged pleasantries. “If I’d known you were Cassius’ wife, I wouldn’t have charged ya.” He extended his hand toward me, then. “And you’re Karalissa’s husband?”

            Before I could answer, Cassius did for me. “Yep. Karl’s husband.” He took a swig from his mug as the bartender and I shook hands. “Cute, ain’t he?” Cass gave me a wink.

            “It’s a pleasure. Though, I can’t say Sorex will be pleased.” he said to me. “My son practically lived and breathed by these two. Could always find these three causing trouble somewhere.” He turned back to Cassius. “Hate to bring ya more bad news, Cass, but your pa’s not at the college right now.”

            “Where is he then?” Cass asked, his toned twinging on disbelief.

            “A bunch of bards are on a trip around Skyrim, performing in different holds. I’m sorry to say your pa and Pantea went with them.” He grabbed a rag to wipe the counter down. They were headed for Morthal, first. Left a few days ago.”

            Cassius shot Kara a look, then turned back to Corpulus. “A damned shame, really. I was hoping to catch up with him. Grab a drink.” He sucked his teeth for a moment. “Say, what about our Ma? She still lives up in Proudspire Manor, right?”

            “I’m pretty sure, kid. How long you two been gone?” As he spoke, Kara entwined her fingers in mine and gave my hand a squeeze.

            Cass offered an incredibly fake laugh. “Too long.” He leaned back in his chair, sliding his arm around Lydia. “Any other rumors? Any sites to show our beloved spouses?” I noticed Lydia jab him discreetly under the table.

            “Ah, I hear the Gourmet is in the city.” the bartender noted. “Here to cook for the Emperor. Neat, huh?”

            “Super neat.” Cass said, then pushed away from the table. “Thank you for all the information, Corpulus. We’ll be back tonight, but we’re going to head in Ma’s direction now.” He put his arm around Lydia’s shoulders. “Send Sorex my regards if you see him before I do.”

            Corpulus laughed. “I will. You all enjoy your time in the city.”

            We all headed toward the front door, and once we were outside, Cassius laughed. Lydia rolled her eyes at him as he poked her sides. “Ah! This is perfect!” he said, bouncing toward Kara. “Talos above, I really thought I was going to have trouble not killing him. Figured Vil would have to stop me.”

            She smiled at him. “Great timing, brother. For us and him.” She pulled me toward Solitude, nodding for the rest to follow. “Let’s go see Ma.”

            As we walked along the path, I couldn’t help looking up at the size of the buildings around me. Massive structures of gray stone and sediment lined the cobbled walkway. Each building, each home was as tall as Jorrvaskr, if not taller. In the distance, directly ahead of us, I could see the silhouette of a castle.

I looked down as a group of children ran past playing tag. They ran into Kara, yanking her hand out of my own as she caught herself from falling. She only laughed, though, as she watched them play. Cassius made some sort of remark about the ‘little shits’, but it had no effect on the euphoria that radiated from all of us. So much stress eliminated in a matter of moments.

            At last, we approached the large stone building that was apparently their childhood home. Kara stared up at it, then looked over at her brother. “Well, Cassius, this is it.”

            Cass slowed to a stop, looking up in the same direction as Kara, He pulled his arm away from Lydia and stood beside his sister. Lydia moved next to me, and we exchanged a happy nod.

            We both watched as Cassius looked down at Kara, and we saw his face transform from his usual arrogance and confidence to absolutely horrified. He looked back at us, then leaned down to his sister.

            Lydia may not have heard it, but the beast heightened my senses. He said to Kara, in the smallest voice I’d ever heard him use, “Karl, I’m scared.”

            She looked back at him, her face confused. Cassius continued. “What if she’s still angry with me?”

            Kara offered him a small smile, and placed her hand on his cheek. “She’s not.” They looked at each other for a moment, then he straightened up. He nodded to her, then looked back at us.

            “Alright, you two. Quit slowing us down.” he took a deep breath as Lydia and I laughed. “Let’s get this over with.”

            We climbed the stairs to the manor, and as Kara knocked on the door, we waited with baited breath.

            The door opened slowly, and from where Lydia and I stood behind the two siblings, we had a decent view of the woman who stood in the frame. She was much older than the rest of us, but still looked very young. Her facial features were identical to Kara’s, right down to her long light brown hair, which was graying in stripes. Her eyes were light and bright, just as Cassius and Kara’s were, though there was a darkness to them. The woman looked like she had seen death before.

            It took her a moment, but once she recognized her children, her face crumpled. She began to cry, outstretching her arms and pulling them both into her embrace. Kara fit nicely against her, but Cassius loomed over both of them.

            Lydia and I watched as the three clumped together in the door frame, listening to their mother chant ‘My babies.’ again and again through her tears. Kara looked so happy, and though I couldn’t see his face, I could see that Cassius was tense in the back, probably withholding tears of his own.

            Next to me, Lydia straightened her steel armor, trying to make herself presentable. I realized then that I was probably a little greasy myself, and I ran my hand through my hair as the three separated in the doorway.

            Their mother put a hand on each of their faces. “I’ve missed you both, so much.”

            Cassius spoke with a quivering voice. “We’ve missed you too, Ma.” He reached behind him, extending his arm to Lydia. “Ma, this is my wife.”

            Her eyes widened. “Wife?” She smiled so wide, I thought her cheeks may burst. Lydia lurked forward awkwardly, but was soon at ease as their mother wrapped her into a bear hug. She pushed her new daughter away from her only slightly, putting her hands on either side of Lydia’s face. “Oh, Cassius, she’s beautiful!”

            Lydia’s face blushed, a dark red shade of both embarrassment and satisfaction. Their mother turned to me. “And who is this?”

            Kara looked back at me as I approached, my arm extended as Kara beamed up at me. “Ma, this is Vilkas. He’s—” Needing no further explanation, her mother crushed me with the tightest hug I’ve ever received.

            After that, we all shuffled into Kara’s childhood home. She and Cassius stared at the walls with wide eyes, memories flooding their minds and hearts. We all went up to their balcony, Cassius and I bringing chairs along the way, and we all sat on the stone ledge together.

            Their mother immediately began trying to feed us. She brought out loaves of bread and cakes and pies, but we were all too excited to eat. Lydia looked absolutely content next to Cassius, who snaked his arm around her waist and kissed her cheek. He, too, looked incredibly happy to be home, and his eyes followed his mother everywhere she went. Kara had been right, he did adore her.

            Kara seemed happy too, but no more than she usually seemed. She kept looking over to me for reassurance, for some reason. Every time I smiled at her, though, she seemed to relax a little more.           

            Their mother finally took a seat after having placed a monumental amount of food on the tables around us. She looked around at all of us, looking absolutely amazed to be sitting with so many people.

            “I have to apologize,” she began. “If I’d known you all were coming, I would have prepared a meal for you all.”

            Cassius snorted. “Ma, it looks like you already did.”

            She laughed too, but she also shoved more food in his direction. “Eat something, Cassius. You look thin.” Cassius rolled his eyes, knowing he looked anything but thin, but began to eat anyway.

            Their mother leaned back in her seat, looking even happier now that Cassius was eating. She sighed. “Where have you two been? Viarmo sent for you, but he only found Karalissa.” She looked my way, an eyebrow raised. “He found Vilkas, too, I’ve heard.”

            Kara cleared her throat. “Cassius and I spent a lot of time in the Rift together before we were separated.” she offered.

            “The Rift?” their mother asked, her eyes confused. “What was in the Rift?”

            “We were hunting, Ma.” Cassius explained around a mouthful of food.

            “Hunting for almost three years?”

            Kara laughed. “No, Ma.”

            Their mother smiled. “Then tell me. I want to hear everything. Every adventure.”

            Cassius and Kara exchanged a look, then they launched into their tale of adventure and separation, never losing their mother’s attention for a moment.

 

 

            Later that day, Lydia and I had decided to go back to the Winking Skeever. Kara wanted time alone with their mother, and Cassius agreed to be a part of the conversation.

            I nudged Lydia with my elbow, nearly causing her to spill her drink on herself. I laughed a little, putting my hand on her shoulder. “Sorry.” I offered, and she nodded with a small smile on her face. “She liked you. You had nothing to worry about.”

            Lydia grinned, her cheeks blushing again. “I guess so.” She nudged me back. “She liked you too, you know.”

            “It was different for you, though. You were seeking approval. I just tagged along.”

            Lydia snorted. “Vilkas, if you can’t see that she loves you, you’re dumber than Cassius thinks you are.”

            I scowled at her. “Cassius thinks I’m dumb?” Lydia just shrugged and gave a small nod. I sighed. “I can’t say I’m surprised, but I am.” I shrugged too. “Well, I’m glad their mother likes me. I wasn’t sure, entirely.”

            Lydia laughed rather loudly. Upon my confused look, she laughed again. “You are a fool!” She whispered, shaking her head. “I was talking about Karalissa.”

            I felt my eyes widen, but I didn’t respond. Lydia waited for a response, but I didn’t give her one.

            “You can’t be that oblivious, Vilkas. What is it? Denial?”

            I thought for a moment. “I don’t know, Lydia. We’ve just never talked about it.”

            Lydia nearly spat her drink out. “You’ve never talked about it? What exactly is ‘it’?”

            I took a long breath, then polished off my mug of mead. “I’m in love with her, Lydia. I’m fairly certain she has feelings for me, but there never seems to be a moment to talk about it. We have plenty of time to ourselves, plenty of time to discuss it, but there’s always something that stops me. Some event or crisis.”

            Lydia nodded, smirking. “She loves you, Vilkas. It’s so obvious, even Cassius noticed, and he’s just as dumb as you are.”

            “Easy there.”

            “You should talk to her, Vilkas. What do you have to lose?”

            I furrowed my brow again, thinking about the foreseeable outcomes. “I could lose her, Lydia. What if she doesn’t feel for me what I feel for her? I don’t want her to feel obligated to be with me. I would squash every ounce of love I have for her if it was any sort of inconvenient for her.”

            Lydia smiled at me. “And that’s exactly why you should talk to her. Because I guarantee, she feels the exact same way.”

            I raised my hand to Corpulus, signaling for another drink. “Alright, Lydia. I’ll talk to her.”

            Lydia finished off her mug, and nodded for another too. “Attaboy.”


	7. A New Chapter

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Vilkas and Karalissa finally discuss an important issue. Later, Karalissa has an announcement to make.
> 
> POV: Karalissa

            The cool breeze blew through my hair, whipping it around behind my head. I tucked it behind my ear, hoping it would help some, but all it did was fly from behind my ear and whip Vilkas in the face again.

            I’d forgotten how much wind the city received just before springtime. The snow around, and inside, the city had probably just recently melted, because the greens and yellows of grass and flowers that speckled the paths winding through Solitude were incredibly vibrant.

            Though I was sitting next to Vilkas, my mind was not. I couldn’t think about anything other than what our mother had said to us yesterday.

            After several hours of visiting, Vilkas and Lydia left my brother and me to talk to our mother about that day. We had tried to ease our way into the discussion, but our mother seemed bent on not talking about it. So much like my brother, yet so different in so many ways. Finally, I had begged for an answer.

            _“I have to know, Ma.” I said, near tears. “I just have to know why you picked him. Why didn’t you choose us? Why did you let him send us away?”_

            My mother had shaken her head. _“You two left, and that’s the best I could have hoped for. He didn’t send you away, but you didn’t stay.”_

            Cassius was actually crying, knowing what she meant. I didn’t though. I couldn’t make sense of it _. “I don’t understand, Ma. You picked him. You stayed with him.”_ I had said. Seeing my brother cry was making me emotional. _“How can you stay with him, Ma? He’s horrible. To you and to everyone.”_

            I couldn’t stop thinking about what my mother had said to us after that. It had absolutely shattered me, and Cassius for that matter. _“I did choose you. Letting you leave was choosing you.”_ She had held the side of my face, begging me to understand. _“He can’t hurt you if you’re not here.”_

            After that, I had left. I was so angry, I couldn’t stand to be near her anymore. I’d gone back to the Skeever, back to Vilkas, and he had held me while I calmed myself. I wasn’t going to go back, not after that, but Vilkas convinced me otherwise.

            _“You can’t abandon her, pup. She misses you. She needs you.”_

            So another day was spent at my mother’s home. Today was all small talk, having gotten all of the serious talking over with. My brother and Lydia had stayed with her, talking about their travels through Skyrim and answering all of her questions. I offered to stay, but my mother knew me all too well. She knew I was growing restless, sitting in the same spot and talking all day, so she suggested Vilkas and I spend a few hours in the city, getting groceries and visiting old friends. I was grateful for the suggestion, and I happily obliged, but I knew she only wanted to drill Cassius about me. No doubt she would do the same to him later.

            It was absolutely adorable, the way Vilkas stared wide-eyed at the size of every building that towered above us. He had said it was like walking through a castle’s courtyard, but shortly after realized that Solitude was exactly that. It was fun, being here with him, not knowing anybody that wandered by. Vilkas was completely at ease, and that was something I rarely saw.

            We were sitting on the wall above Castle Dour’s training yards, watching the guards train with practice mannequins below us. Vilkas had three bags of vegetables propped up next to him, waiting to bring them back to my mother.

            “When do you think we should go back?” he asked me, noticing me looking at the vegetables.

            I shrugged. “Might as well give her an hour more to interrogate my brother.”

            Vilkas laughed. “I’m sure that’s not what’s happening.”

            “Oh believe me, it is.” I tried to do my best impression of my mother’s voice. “Cassius Felstead, what has your sister been doing? Why is she wandering around with this strange man? What happened to her face?”

            Vilkas laughed, running his thumb over the scar across my right eye. He was serious after a moment, but he still had a smile on his face. “Does your brother even know how it happened?”

            I shook my head. “I just told him I lost a fight. Which isn’t…necessarily a lie. It’s just not entirely the truth.”

            His face fell as he brushed hair away from my face to fully expose the long, dark scar. He kept his hand against the side of my head, keeping my hair from flying back at him. “He should know.” Vilkas said, looking at the mark still. “It was an important day, for all of us. He and Lydia don’t even know who Skjor was.”

            I felt my eyes well up with tears, and I looked away. “Yes, well, talking about that day means telling him a bit more about us than I’d like him to know.”

            “You don’t have to tell him all of it, pup. Not about the beast.” Vilkas took a breath. “Skjor was so proud of you, from the first day you arrived. He wouldn’t want you to be ashamed of a death you didn’t cause.”

            I thought about that for a moment, then nodded. “You’re right.” Vilkas always had a way knowing exactly what I was thinking, and how to make me stop thinking it.

            Vilkas gave me a quick kiss on the cheek, then furrowed his brow again, his smile reforming. “Does she really think me to be a ‘strange man’?”

            I laughed then, looking back up at him. “No. I’m sure she likes you a lot.” I pinched his cheeks. “Who wouldn’t? Look at this little face.”

            He swatted my hands away, rubbing his face and laughing. “Easy there.” He smiled at me. “Good. I like your mother a lot.”

            “Do you?”

            “Yes.” he said. “She’s a lot like you.”

            I put my hand on my chest, mocking surprise. “And you like _me_? I’m shocked.”

            He glared at me for a moment, then pinched my cheeks. “Well, who wouldn’t? Look at this little face.” he said, mimicking my voice.

            We both erupted into a fit of giggles as I shoved his hands away from my face. “Keep it up, Vilkas. Apparently we’re married, and I just might leave you.”

            “Leave _me_?” He said, laughing even louder. “We weren’t married until just this morning, and now you want to leave me.” He shrugged, turning his nose up and looking away from me. “Your loss. I’m a catch.”

            I poked his sides, trying to get some sort of reaction from him, but I got nothing. “You’re not ticklish?” I asked him, poking him harder.

            “Not at all.” He looked back at me, giving his best scowl. “And you’d know that if you’d been a good wife. But no. You want to leave me.”

            I hopped up onto my knees, wrapping my arms around his neck from behind him and leaning against his back. I rested my chin on the top of his head. “You know I’m just playing with you.” I smooshed his face between my hands. “I could never leave you. Just like you said, you’re a catch.”

            He stuck his tongue out, licking the palm of my hand. I yanked it away, crying out in humored disgust. “You couldn’t leave me if you tried, little girl.”

            I kept my arms wrapped around his neck though, squeezing him for just a moment. “I don’t want to leave you.”

“So you _want_ to be with me then?” His cheeks were warm beneath my hand as his face blushed. He was nervous.

            I understood then, and I climbed off of him. I sat back down beside him, looking up at his red face. He looked at me, then looked down at his feet, rubbing the back of his neck. I pressed my cheek against his shoulder. “Of course I want to be with you. Why would you even ask?”

            He looked back at me. “We’ve never actually spoken about it.” I could feel absolute nervousness radiating off of him.

            “That’s true.” I said, sitting up straight and turning my body to face him. I smirked. “But Farkas already told your secret. Long ago. Though, I never heard it from the horse’s mouth, so I’m not even sure if it’s true.” I poked his cheek to let him know I was only joking.

            Vilkas snorted. “Farkas never lies, Kara.” he exhaled for a long time. “It’s true, the secret. But I only want what you want.”

            I stared at him a moment. I was utterly amazed at how selfless Vilkas was. I supposed I knew that all along, but in that moment, it became clear that everything he’d ever done was for someone else. All I wanted in the span of those few seconds was to be exactly like him. To be willing to just toss everything I felt away so the person I loved wouldn’t feel obligated to reciprocate.

            Of course, I realized moments later that I didn’t want to be exactly like him. I just wanted him. Everything about him was everything I loved. His snarky remarks, his fiery attitude, his premature reactions, even the amount of dirt that seemed to be caked to his flesh no matter how much I made him scrub it. I wanted to spend every moment I was awake with him. I wanted to spend every moment I was asleep with him. I wanted to fight every battle, win every war, and celebrate every happy moment in my life with him. But more than anything, I wanted to have told him sooner. I felt so foolish, all of a sudden, for not allowing myself to be so happy before that moment.

            “Kara?” he asked, pulling me out of my thoughts. I blinked at him, watching his face falling as he waited for me to speak. I knew he was beginning to worry about my reaction, so I decided I couldn’t linger in thought any longer.

            “Vilkas, I am so stupidly in love with you.” I said to him, all of my thoughts spilling from my lips like warm mead. “It’s always been in the back of my throat, waiting to be said, but gods, how could I have waited this long to say it? I love you, Vilkas. I want _you_.” I leaned toward him then, kissing him eagerly on the lips. He was utterly surprised, but I could feel how happy he was. Or was that me? Us?

            He pulled away from me, putting his hand against my face. “Kara, you’re the only thing I’ve ever wanted. From the moment you walked through the door, right up to me and Kodlak, I was in love with you.” He kissed me again. “Oh, thank the gods for that damned giant.”

            “Why did we wait so long?” I asked in between kisses. “How silly are we?”

            Vilkas pulled away from me entirely then. He held my hands with his own, running his gloved thumbs over my knuckles. “We should get married.”

            I laughed. “Do you think so?”

            “Of course.” he said, his voice getting softer. “We could tell your family tonight at dinner, and we could be wed this time next week.”

            I thought about that for a moment. “Let’s do exactly that, Vilkas. If you’re as sure as I am, there’s nothing to stop us.”

            He laughed then. “I am, pup. I’d be glad to stand by your side until the Divines take us.” He brushed my hair away from my face once again. “If you’ll have me.”

            I placed my hand over his. “I will. Together, then?”

            Vilkas smiled, leaning toward my lips again. “Together.”

 

            Apparently, Lydia can’t cook. Not that I judged her at all for it, because in all honesty, cooking is something I absolutely cannot do either. That’s how I found myself on vegetable duty with my new sister, chopping and exchanging stories of all of the food we’d burned in our days.

            “Once, I offered to cook for my brothers on my mother’s birthday, so she wouldn’t have to. It was a very simple stew, honestly. Carrots, potatoes, beef. Nothing fancy.” she said to me, a smile on her face as she chopped leeks beside me. “Somehow, I managed to confuse beef stock with alto wine. I’d never seen my mother so drunk before.”

            I laughed loudly, as did my mother, who was hunched over a pot in the middle of the room. Her hair had grayed significantly over the years, but the light in her brown eyes was still the same. She had a few more wrinkles now, of course, and those were likely due to the trouble Cass and I had caused not long ago. She was happy to have us here though. Happy to have some company.

            Ma looked over her shoulder at me, a smirk on her face. “Tell Lydia about the time you tried to bake your brother’s birthday cake, Karalissa.” From the other room, Cassius laughed. He had been in there by himself for a while, but Vilkas had joined him with two large mugs of mead in his hands. Vilkas had been hovering over me since we returned to my mother’s home, but I can only imagine he decided he needed some liquid encouragement before we made our announcement.

            As Lydia finished chopping her leeks, I finished the garlic, and Lydia brought both to my mother. I laughed before I began to tell my story, leaning against the table I’d been chopping at. “I really wanted to make Cass’ birthday cake one year, and I insisted that Ma didn’t help at all. I mixed up a few ingredients, that’s all.”

            Ma leaned toward Lydia. “She confused flour and powdered sugar. The cake exploded.” Cassius and Vilkas erupted into gales of laughter, walking into the kitchen. Lydia laughed softly, but gave me a wink, letting me know that I wasn’t the only one. “I was scraping batter off of these walls for days.”

            Cassius put his arm around my shoulder. “That wasn’t the funniest part though.” He held his arm out to Vilkas, beckoning him over. “Ma and I were in upstairs, and when we heard the explosion, we ran downstairs. We were yelling for Karalissa and she wasn’t answering. We were horrified.”

            My mother laughed hysterically. “Oh, Cassius, do you remember? We walked into the kitchen and she was covered in this yellow batter.”

            “Oh yeah, and she says,” he did his best impression of me. “’I think I messed it up.’”

            Vilkas and Cassius exploded with laughter, and my brother ruffled my hair. I wrinkled my nose, looking up at both of them. Vilkas looked slightly apologetic as he laughed, but Cassius felt no remorse and laughed harder.

            Ma picked the pot up with a wooden spoon and carried it to the table. She began pouring stew into bowls, and we all took our seats. I sat next to Lydia and across from Vilkas, with my brother and mother at the heads of the table. As we all began to eat, Cassius was still laughing about the cake.

            Vilkas nudged me with his foot underneath the table. “You should never let Farkas know about that.” he said, a sly grin on his face. “He’ll insist we try to blow a cake up ourselves.”

            My mother looked over at Vilkas from across the table. “Farkas is your brother?”

            “Yes ma’am.” Vilkas answered, nodding as he took another spoonful of stew. “Farkas loves stories, but he prefers to see things for himself. If he can test it out, he will.”

            “Better keep him out of earshot, then, because I will never stop talking about it.” Cass said around a mouthful of stew. “In fact, I personally volunteer my kitchen for experimentation.”

            Lydia rolled her eyes. “Then you can have all of the fun of cleaning that up.”

            Cass shrugged. “Worth it.”

            Ma tapped my arm with her finger. “Viarmo says you joined the Companions. What’s that like?”

            I looked over at my brother, wondering why he didn’t tell her that in the interrogation. “The Companions are great. We just protect Whiterun Hold, take care of bandits and giants. Nothing too exciting.”

            “It _sounds_ exciting.” she said, leaning against her palm. “How do you get your work? Who’s in charge of the Companions?”

            I glanced at my brother again, really confused. He made eye contact with me for a split second, then looked back down at his soup and discreetly shook his head. He didn’t want her to know. I’d have to revisit that.

            “Well, nobody really leads the Companions, Ma. We have a Harbinger, but that’s just for council.”

            My mother nodded, giving me a look I knew all too well. “And your brother? What does he do? I assume he just gets into trouble.”

            I glanced at Cassius again, who looked absolutely desperate. I felt his worry. He really didn’t want Ma to know what we actually did. “Cassius is a Thane of Whiterun. Didn’t he tell you?” When Ma shook her head, I shrugged. “He runs errands for the Jarl. He’s really just a servant to Balgruuf himself. Isn’t that right, Cass?”

            Cassius coughed around some soup. He glared at me, but smiled at Ma. “That’s right, Karl. I live to serve.”

            Ma was beaming. “I’m so proud of both of you.” she said. “And Cassius, I’m surprised you got a woman as lovely as Lydia to agree to marry you.”

            Lydia beamed at both my mother and Vilkas, but Cassius grumbled. “What’s so wrong with me? I’m not capable of finding a nice woman?”

            “Clearly you are, son.” Ma turned to me. “What about you Karalissa? Anyone catch you eye yet?”

            I looked up at Vilkas, who had a huge grin on his face. He gave me a wink. “Actually, Ma, there’s something I wanted to tell you all tonight.” Vilkas bumped me with his foot under the table. “Vilkas and I—”

            There were screams outside just then, and the sound of weapons being drawn. We all stood from the table, none faster than Cass and Vilkas. We all rushed to the door and out into the streets, looking around for what was happening.

            People were running frantically, yelling things I could hardly understand. Cassius stopped a guard, trying to be as gentle as he could manage.

            “What’s going on?”

            The guard shook his head, watching as a fleet of Penitus Oculatus guards flew past. “There’s been an attempt on the Emperor’s life. The Gourmet wasn’t really the Gourmet. It was an assassin.”

            “What the hell are you talking about?” Cassius asked, a little louder than he should have. Thu’um rumbled in his voice, and he dialed his tone back. “The Emperor? An assassin?”

            “The Dark Brotherhood, sir. They’re saying it was the Dark Brotherhood.”

            Another guard ran past just then. “I saw the whole thing. She flew out of Solitude, right off of the wall!”

            Cassius let go of the guard. “A woman _flew_ out of Solitude? Bullshit.” He turned back to us, realization in his eyes. “The Jarl needs to know. He needs to know now.”

            I shook my head at my brother. “Balgruuf? Why is he so important all of a sudden?”

            Cassius snorted. “No, Karl. Balgruuf can go screw himself. Jarl Ulfric needs to know!” Beside him, Lydia nodded.

            I blinked at him. “Ulfric…Stormcloak?”

            “Yes!” he yelled. I looked at Vilkas, who was as confused as I was. “This is his time to act! The Empire is weak, and this is an opportunity I won’t let him miss. Not after all of this.”

            “All of what, Cass?”

            My brother laughed. “Karl, we have some serious talking to do. We’ll take you and Vil back to Whiterun, but we need to get to Windhelm as soon as possible.”

            And just like that, our trip was over. Vilkas put his hand on my back, reminding me that we’d have to save our announcement for another day.


	8. A New Fight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Another fight causes trouble in Jorrvaskr. Later, Karalissa opens up to Cassius about her time at Jorrvaskr.
> 
> POV: Cassius

            The ride back home from Solitude was actually very boring. Karl slept the whole time, curled up against Vilkas like a lovestruck puppy dead set on making me vomit. Lydia and Vilkas both nodded in and out of sleep too, so I was left with my thoughts.

            My thoughts were nowhere other than Windhelm. Ulfric and Galmar needed to know, sooner rather than later, and I wanted to be the one to bring them the word. After our wagon-ride together to Helgen, Ulfric and I had actually become sort of friends. Of course, I’d always admired the man, but actually getting to know him was different. He was incredibly level-headed for a rebellion leader. Though, nothing in the world compared to knowing someone who shared the same abilities as you.

            The Voice is an incredible power, and it wasn’t difficult for me to master. The feelings that came with it, though, the emotion, the hunger to use it again. It’s difficult to find someone who can relate to it. Ulfric Stormcloak, however, was nothing but understanding.

            After our meeting at High Hrothgar all those years ago, Ulfric and I hadn’t remained in touch. Though I sided with him, doing whatever he wanted to cease the fighting so I could go to Skuldofn, after Sovngarde I wanted peace of mind. I wanted to spend my days in Lydia’s arms, warm and silent.

            The Nord in me wanted to fight, though. The dragon in me wanted blood. The thought of the Emperor’s downfall was far too exciting for me, and I wanted to get to Windhelm as soon as possible.

As we climbed the steps of Jorrvaskr, I had already began my itinerary. Just ahead of us though, Karalissa and Vilkas exchanged a look, then bolted for the front door.

            “What the hell?” I mumbled to Lydia, who only shrugged and followed behind them.

            We pushed the door open, eager to see what was so important. Apparently, they’d heard the fight before us.

            Aela was squared up to Njada and Farkas was holding her back. The majority of the whelps and Companions were scattered, but focused on the fight. Karalissa and Vilkas had made their way to the scuffle before we could, tossing their bags to the side.

            Karalissa stepped up first. “What is the meaning of this?”

            Aela laughed. “She’s testing me, Lissa. She wants a fight.”

            Njada scoffed, her arms crossed. “I was just making an observation.”

            “It’s none of your damned business, whelp.” Aela spat through her teeth.

            My sister pinched the bridge of her nose. “Why are we doing this again? Can we not act civilized? Can we not keep to ourselves?”

            Njada snickered. “Keep to ourselves? That’s funny, coming from someone just as bad as Aela.”

            Vilkas stepped forward, his hand on my sister’s back. “What are you getting at, whelp? Spit it out or shut up.”

            Farkas tightened his grip around Aela, who was damned near ready to swing. “Calm down. It doesn’t matter.” he said to her.

            “Keep to ourselves, you say?” Njada asked Kara, an eyebrow raised. “A very interesting suggestion from someone who also climbed the ranks of the Companions because the men here lust after you.”

            I felt my jaw drop, as did Lydia’s, but Karalissa only laughed.  “This is a truly pathetic display, Njada. I highly advise you stop now.”

            “Is it not true? You and Aela are part of the Circle because the twins are infatuated with you two.” Njada pointed at Vilkas. “It doesn’t matter who fancies them, who cares for them. As long as they get exactly what they want.” Her gazed returned to Farkas. “Isn’t that right, big boy?”

            “I’m not going to warn you again, Njada.” Aela said. Farkas’ grip around her was steel.

            Njada laughed, getting in Aela’s face. “You slept your way into the Circle. You’re too ashamed to admit it, but it’s exactly what you did. Skjor died. You and Lissa killed your lover, and you had to find a new one so you could hold your position.” She stepped back. “Good thing Farkas is dumb enough to fall for it.”

            My jaw was practically on the floor, but Lydia’s hand on my arm kept me from moving at all. Vilkas was shaking, trembling beside Karalissa, who only stood with her arms crossed. Farkas and Vilkas exchanged a look, a nod. Then, Farkas just let Aela go.

            Aela pounced on top of Njada, tearing off her helmet and beating her absolutely senseless. She had a good grip on her hair with her left hand, holding her head steady as she pounded against her face with her right fist.

            Njada managed to get an arm free, backhanding Aela. It didn’t bother her in the slightest, and she continued to pound against the whelp. After a moment, Njada wiggled to freedom, grabbing Aela’s hair and shoving her back onto the ground. She smacked at Aela’s face only once before Aela over powered her again, rolling her on her back and punching her repeatedly.

            They tussled around for a moment longer, the Njada finally yielded. Aela got in one final blow before she was satisfied, then stood. As she wiped the blood from her face, she spit on Njada. Then, after fixing her tangled hair and straightening the skirt of her armor, Aela strode nonchalantly back to the living quarters, Farkas close behind her. No one in the room moved to help Njada, or even looked at her kindly for that matter. The faces of the room were filled with disgust and hatred, and even sadness.

            My sister, who only squeezed Vilkas’ arm to calm him down, walked slowly to Njada. The whelp had managed to pull herself off of the ground, and was sitting up, wiping blood from her nose. Karalissa leaned down to her and spoke, just loud enough for the whole room to hear.

            “On the topic of holding your position, if you’d like to remain a Companion, you’d be wise to never say such a fucking _terrible_ thing again. Don’t even think it for that matter, and if that’s an issue for you, you can leave. I won’t tolerate anything like that. Ever again.” Njada just blinked, seemingly as surprised at my little sister’s bravado as I was. “Do we understand each other?”

            Njada was silent for a moment, then she looked away. “Yes, Harbinger.”

            Karalissa nodded, then picked Njada’s helmet up off of the floor and handed it to her. Then, she nodded to the rest of the Companions and retreated to the living quarters. Vilkas grabbed a tankard off of the long table as he passed, following behind Karalissa.

            As she passed me, all my sister said was “Have fun in Windhelm.”

 

            I walked back through the halls of Jorrvaskr after going home for a while. Lydia had dragged me out of the mead hall, convincing me that everyone needed some time to simmer before I stuck my nose into everyone’s business.

            At home, Lydia and I had talked a bit about what we’d seen just hours before. She had told me all that she heard from Vilkas about Skjor, how the three had gone out hunting and he hadn’t returned. But the things Njada had said, it made things a little confusing.

            I wanted to talk to my sister, not to get information, but to make sure she was okay. I’d never, in my entire life, heard her say anything so menacing. I had no doubt she was stewing in silence, thinking about the fight.

            As I approached her door, I waited for a moment, listening for movement or voices. When I heard none, I pushed the door open. Karl was inside at her table, her nose in a book and a loaf of bread in her hand. Judging from the amount of crumbs on the table, it wasn’t her first loaf. Or her fifth.

            She looked up, startled by my sudden entrance. She looked between me and the loaf, and she quickly tucked it away behind some papers on the desk.

            “Stress-eating?” I asked, grabbing one of her other chairs and pulling it up to her.

            “No.” she said, shrugging. “Just a snack.” My eyes darted between her and the crumbs, and she brushed them onto the floor. “Okay, maybe stress-eating.”

            I laughed a little. “Want to talk about it?”

            She glared at me for a moment, then her face relaxed. “I don’t know what to do with her.”

            “Njada?”

            “Yes. This isn’t the first time she’s lashed out at Aela, and it’s not the first time Aela’s had a fight with her.”

            I felt my brow furrow. “So kick her out. Don’t keep that kind of negativity in your house.”

            “It’s more complicated than that, Cass.” Karalissa said to me, leaning against her fist. “There’s a lot to factor in.”

            “Well what she said wasn’t true, right?”

            Karalissa’s face fell. “Well, no. Not all of it.” She smiled at me for just a moment. “Aela and Skjor were in love, more in love than I’ve ever known anyone to be. What Njada said about Aela wasn’t true. But…” Tears sprung to her eyes for a split-second, then she forced them away. “I do feel responsible for his death, Cassius. So much happened that night that was out of our hands, but the night wouldn’t have happened if I hadn’t gone along.”

            I felt my heart pulse with sadness, seeing my sister in tears. I knew my sister was an emotional person; she always had been. But I’d honestly never seen her so defeated, so guilty.

            “Karl, that can’t be true. Don’t think that.”

            She sniffled. “I do.” She looked away from me, down at her hands in her lap. “I feel responsible for a lot of the wrong that’s been done to the Companions. Vilkas tries to convince me otherwise, and I try to convince myself. It just doesn’t feel right.” She blinked twice. “I’m lying to myself if I say it’s my fault, but I’m lying to myself if I say it isn’t.”

            I shifted uncomfortably, knowing what had to be done. “Do you want to talk about it?”

            Karalissa looked up at me, her brows furrowed and her eyes watery. “You don’t like to talk about things.”

            I shrugged. “Well, that’s true. But I love you, Karl. I don’t want you to feel like you can’t tell me things. I don’t want you to feel like I shut you out.”

            Karl thought for a moment, but she nodded. Then, she launched into the tale of her last year with the Companions. She told me about her arrival, her initiation. She told me the story of Skjor’s death, and about how broken Aela had been, how my sister helped her kill the bandits that killed him. Karalissa told me that afterwards, the bandits had retaliated and killed the previous Harbinger.

            I furrowed my brow at that note. “This all happened, right before I met Farkas and Vilkas?”

            She nodded. “A month or so before.”

            “It’s still fresh, then.” I put my hand on her shoulder. “Karl, why didn’t you tell me?”

            Karalissa shrugged. “You were so excited. Your big journey ended the way it was supposed to. You defeated that dragon.” She waved her hand, not remembering the name.

            “Alduin.”

            “Yes, Alduin, sorry.” She laughed a little. “You won the battle, you got married. Your story got a happy ending.” She shrugged again. “Ours didn’t.”

            I couldn’t help myself, and a small laugh escaped my lips. “‘Happy ending?’ You spend too much time with your nose in a book, Karl. There’s no such thing as a happy ending.”

            Karalissa looked dumbfounded. “Yes there is, Cass. You can’t tell me that you didn’t get everything you’ve always wanted.” She smiled at me again. “You got the glory, the power, the woman of your dreams. It’s exactly like a book! A book with a happy ending.”

            I shook my head at her. “You’re the Harbinger. That isn’t a happy ending?”

            Karalissa sighed. “It didn’t end the way it was supposed to. Skjor was supposed to be the next Harbinger. They weren’t supposed to die, Cassius.”

            “You can’t blame yourself, Karalissa.”

            My sister snorted. “You sound like Vilkas.”

            I rolled my eyes. “Then maybe Vilkas is smarter than I credit him for.” I put my hand over hers. “Karalissa, everything you just told me is not your fault. So your story is a little darker than mine, but that doesn’t mean it’s over. You didn’t get a happy ending, but maybe you get a sequel.”

            Karalissa laughed. “A sequel? I thought you didn’t like books.”

            “I don’t.” I said to her. “But you do, and I want to help you write your happy ending. Come to Windhelm with us.”

            She looked confused, but she smiled. “Windhelm?”

            “You and me and Lyd. We’ll start a new story.” I thought for a moment. “You can bring Vil too, if you want.”

            My sister was thoughtful for just a moment, then she nodded. “We’ll have to wait until my meeting with the Jarl is over, but we can leave right after.”

            I smiled at her. “Anything for Balgruuf, right? A meeting tomorrow, and we can leave on Middas.”

            “Alright, I’ll talk to Vilkas.” she said with a smile. “A new story, then.”

            My chest blossomed with satisfaction, pleased to have my happy little sister back. “A new story.”


	9. A New Motive

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cassius, Lydia, Karalissa, and Vilkas travel to the Palace of Kings to speak with Ulfric Stormcloak.
> 
> POV: Vilkas

            Kara and I both walked, wide-eyed, behind Cassius and Lydia toward the Palace of Kings. I’d never seen a building so large in all of my life, not even Dragonsreach. I peered up at the flags, adorned with blue wild bears as we climbed the steps.

            “It’s beautiful.” Kara whispered beside me, low enough for only me to hear. I looked down at her, her cheeks rosy in the cold of Windhelm’s late afternoon. She had pulled her long hair into a braid over her right shoulder. Pieces of her hair had come out of the braid, framing her face and catching snowflakes as they fell around us.

            “And so are you.” I said to her, in the same low volume. Her cheeks blushed even more as she beamed at me. She looked toward her brother, who was still walking ahead of us with his arm around Lydia’s waist. We had decided to keep our thoughts of marriage a secret for a little while longer, just until things had settled. With all that was happening at home, and all that was about to transpire here, we wanted something for ourselves.

            Kara looked back up at me, her eyes content as she mouthed the words ‘I love you.’ I felt my chest well up, and I brushed a piece of her hair behind her ear as I mouthed the words back.

            Cassius spoke ahead of us. “Alright, you all. This is it.” He put his helmet on his head, releasing Lydia, and the two were no longer husband and wife. The Dragonborn and his housecarl strolled forward while Kara and I lingered behind. We approached the doors, where two guards stood with folded arms. They turned their heads toward Cassius, then toward each other.

            “Dragonborn, it’s an honor.” One said, though we couldn’t see his face beneath the helmet.

            Cassius laughed obnoxiously, his Dragonborn bravado making an appearance. “At ease, boys. Just visiting the Jarl.”

            “Of course, Dragonborn.” The other said, opening the doors for us.

We entered the large main room, adorned in the same blue flags as the outside. In the center of the room, a long table of food stretched toward the stone throne at the back. Cassius spared no time being polite, sauntering through the room to a doorway off to the left. We followed along behind him, Kara and I stiff and awkward behind the two who were quite at ease.

            As we entered the room, we were greeted by an older Nord with a long beard. He was dressed in an officer’s uniform, which was made from a bear’s pelt. He caught glimpse of Cassius and let out a loud, booming laugh.

            “Well, look what we have here, my Jarl.” the man said over his shoulder. Just past him, a large blond Nord was hunched over a table. He looked up, and the stress that was etched into his face was erased. He smiled, walking toward us.

            “The Dragonborn approaches.” He said, his voice deep and dark. Cassius laughed, removing his helmet. Lydia, too, relaxed her shoulders.

            “My Jarl, it’s an honor.” he said, bowing his head before the blond Nord, who apparently was Ulfric Stormcloak. I had to take a moment to watch him, for he was nothing like I expected him. Ulfric Stormcloak was made out to be a menace, a valiant warrior, a potential king, and a murderer. I don’t know what I was expecting him to be, but it wasn’t a man who wore such worry between dual blond braids that framed his face.

            Ulfric laughed, patting Cassius on the back. “We’re far past exchanging titles, Cassius.” The officer to his side, a bear in both size and appearance, stood with his arms crossed and nodded, a sly grin on his face beneath his graying beard.

            “And he brought an army.” the officer remarked. “It’s always a pleasure to be in the company of your lovely housecarl, but what’s the occasion?”

            Cassius grunted in embarrassment and turned toward us. “Actually, Galmar, Lydia is no longer my housecarl. I’d like you to meet my wife.” As Lydia and Galmar exchanged a nod of understanding, Cassius extended his arm to us. “This is my sister, Karalissa, and this is Vilkas. They’re Companions in Whiterun.”

            I nodded toward Cassius, but clarified for Ulfric. “Actually, Karalissa is the Harbinger of the Companions.” Kara gave me a look, but I ignored it.

            “It’s a pleasure to meet you both.” Kara said, shaking hands with both of the men.

            “Harbinger of the Companions, eh?” Galmar said, striding back into the room. He leaned over the table, looking down at a map and laughing to himself. “How ironic.”

            Ulfric bellowed a laugh, deep and smooth, then walked out of the room slowly toward the main room. We all followed behind him, none quicker than Galmar. As Ulfric sat in his throne, slouching into what seemed to be a comfortable position, he spoke to me and Kara.

            “I apologize for my housecarl’s demeanor. We were actually just discussing Whiterun.” he explained. “Whiterun’s Jarl, specifically.” He looked at his fingernails, then over to Galmar, who nodded to him. “Though I never turn away an opportunity to make small talk, I imagine you came here for a purpose, Cassius.”

            Cassius cleared his throat before speaking. “I wanted to bring the news to you, Ulfric. The news about the Emperor.”

            Galmar and Ulfric laughed. “Ah, we’ve heard, my boy.” Ulfric said.

            Cassius’ brow furrowed. “Then you know there’s been an attempt on his life?”

            Ulfric and Galmar stared at him for a moment, their jaws set in confusion. Galmar shook his head. “Have you not heard, Dragonborn? The Emperor is dead.”

            “Dead?” Lydia asked. “The Emperor is dead?”

            “The Dark Brotherhood got to him before we could, I’m afraid.” Ulfric said casually. “Not before their sanctuary was burned to the ground.”

            Cassius turned to Lydia. “We need to become more involved in current events.” Lydia nodded, then Cassius turned back to Ulfric. “My Jarl, now is your opportunity. The Empire is weak, and our time to strike is now.”

            Ulfric cocked his head to the side. “‘Our’? You wish to join me?”

            Cassius nodded. “I’ve wanted to fight by your side since long before Helgen, but even more after the Empire sent me to the block without reason.”

            Ulfric nodded. “And I am forever in your debt for that day, Cassius.”

            “As am I.” Galmar noted, looking up at Ulfric on his throne. The two exchanged a somber look before returning to the conversation. “I side with the Dragonborn. Now is the time to strike. And Balgruuf is standing in the way of that.”

            “He’s a true Nord.” Ulfric said to Galmar. “He’ll come around.”

            Galmar snorted. “Don’t be so sure of that. We’ve intercepted couriers from Solitude. The Empire is putting a great deal of pressure on Whiterun.”

            “And what would you have me do, Galmar?” Ulfric asked, pinching his nose between his index finger and thumb.

            “If he’s not with us, he’s against us.”

            “He knows that. They all know that.” Ulfric said, repositioning himself in his seat.

            “How long are you going to wait?”

             Lydia interrupted. “Perhaps you need to send Balgruuf a stronger message.”

            Cassius snorted. “If by message you mean shoving a sword through his gullet.”

Galmar laughed, nudging Cassius and nodding in agreement. “I’ve missed the Dragonborn. He has more sense than the Jarl.”

            Ulfric laughed too, but remained serious. “I think taking his city and leaving him in disgrace would make a more powerful statement, don’t you think?”

            Kara and I leaned against the wall in the corner, observing the conversation unfolding before us. It was almost as if we weren’t present at all. We were just spectators, and I couldn’t help but notice that Ulfric and Galmar acted like an old married couple.

            Galmar grumbled enthusiastically. “So we’re ready to start this war in earnest, then?”

            Ulfric leaned against his fist. “Soon.”

            “I still say you should take them all out like you did Dead King Torryg.” Galmar noted, earning a laugh from Cassius. Kara and I exchanged a look, both equally confused. It wasn’t just a story, then. Ulfric Stormcloak had murdered the High King.

            Ulfric sighed. “Torryg was merely a message to the other Jarls. And to Skyrim, for that matter.” He turned to us. “How can a supposed High King be entrusted to defend the people of Skyrim when he can’t even defend himself?” I shrugged, not wanting to be reeled into the politics of it all. He turned back to Galmar. “Whoever we replace the Jarls with will need the support of our armies.”

            Cassius spoke again, trying to remain involved in the conversation. “We’re ready when you are, Ulfric.”

            Ulfric stood from his throne, making his way down the steps toward the window beside us. “Things hinge on Whiterun. If we can take the city without bloodshed, all the better. But if not…”

            Galmar followed behind him, his arms still crossed. “The people are behind you.” He gestured to us, and I looked down at Kara. Her jaw was set, but I couldn’t quite read her expression.

            Ulfric sighed again. “Many, I fear, still need convincing.”

            Cassius was close behind Galmar, but he leaned against the table in the center of the room. “Let them die along with their false kings.”

            Ulfric stared out of the window, looking out at whatever scene was below him. “We’ve been soldiers a long time. We know the price of freedom.” He turned back to Galmar. “The people are still weighing things in their hearts.”

            Galmar was growing increasingly irritated. “What’s left of Skyrim to wager?”

            Finally, Kara spoke up beside me. “They have families to think of.”

            “How many sons and daughters follow Ulfric’s banner?” Galmar countered. “ _We_ are their families.”

            Ulfric laughed under his breath, striding back to his throne. “Well put, friend.” He and Galmar exchanged another look, then Ulfric glanced at Kara and I. “Tell me, Galmar. Why do you fight for me?”

            Galmar looked appalled. His eyes darted between Ulfric, who rested back into his throne, and the rest of us. He seemed unsure if he should answer, his face turning a bright red beneath his graying beard. After a moment, he finally did. “I’d follow you into the depths of Oblivion.” He spoke lower. “You know that.”

            Ulfric nodded. “Yes, Galmar. I know that. But _why_ do you fight? If not for me, then what?”

            Galmar huffed. “I’ll die before elves dictate the fates of men. Are we not one with this?”

            Cassius snickered from his place on the sidelines. “I’m with you, Galmar. And with you Ulfric.” He gestured to us. “We all are.”

            Kara stood up straight, walking toward the throne. I followed behind her.

            “And what about you, Jarl Ulfric?” she asked. “Why do _you_ fight?”

            Ulfric sat up, leaning toward Kara. His face grew angry. “I fight for the men I’ve held in my arms, dying on foreign soil. I fight for their wives and children whose names I heard whispered in their last breaths. I fight for we few who did come home, only to find our home filled with _strangers_ wearing familiar faces. I fight for my people, _impoverished_ to pay the debt of an Empire too weak to rule them, yet brands them _criminals_ for wanting to rule themselves!” He realized how angry he’d become, and leaned back in his chair. His face became sad, even somber. “I fight so all the fighting I’ve already done hasn’t been for nothing. I fight because I _must_.”

            I stared at Ulfric Stormcloak, wide-eyed and utterly inspired. I felt so many things as he spoke, but more than anything, I felt the desire to join. To help. To fight.

            Galmar spoke, alleviating the tension in the room. “Your words give voice to what we all feel, Ulfric. And that’s why you will be High King.”

            Cassius nodded. “And we will ensure that it happens. I will fight at your side until I breathe my last breath.”

            Lydia nodded. “As will I.”

            I looked at Kara, then set my jaw. I looked back at Ulfric. “As will I.” I felt Kara’s eyes bore into me, but she said nothing.

            Ulfric thought for a moment, then stood from his throne and returned to the room we found him in. He emerged moments later, weapon in hand. He extended it to Cassius. “It’s settled, then. Deliver this to Jarl Balgruuf.”

            Cassius stared at him blankly. “An axe? Do I deliver it with a message?”

            “Men who understand each other often have no need for words. There are a few simple truths behind one warrior giving another his axe. Balgruuf will know my meaning.”

            Cassius nodded. “Then it shall be done.”

            Ulfric nodded, and extended his hand to all of us again. “I thank you all for your company today. I’ll leave you to deliver the axe.” With that, he turned back to his throne, and Cassius and Lydia retreated from the palace. Kara and I followed quickly behind.

            When they thought we were out of earshot, Galmar spoke to Ulfric in a very low voice. “A fine speech, my Jarl. But the days when words are no longer needed is the day old soldiers like us are no longer needed.”

            Ulfric laughed quietly. “I’d gladly retire from the world with you, were such a day to dawn.”

            With that, the door to the palace closed behind us. Cassius and Lydia sprung forward, excited to get back to Whiterun. I looked down at Kara, who had a secretive smile carved into her face.

            “What?” I asked her, confused. She had seemed almost angry inside.

            She looked up at me. “Did you feel it too?”

            “Feel what, Kara?”

            She laughed to herself, a quick exhale. “I’ll tell you another time.”


	10. New Battles

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The group heads to Dragonsreach to give Ulfric's axe to Jarl Balgruuf the Greater. Will his response satisfy?
> 
> POV: Lydia

            As we walked through Whiterun’s gates, I looked at my husband. Cassius had the hugest grin on his face, gripping the axe in his clenched fists. Vilkas, too, looked rather excited.

            I couldn’t deny that I was also enthused. While I wasn’t sure that I wanted to participate in an actual war, it had been a very long time since I’d been in battle, and I was a warrior at heart. Though we both had enjoyed our time off, I knew Cassius felt the same way I did. We were ready to fight again.

            As we climbed the steps to the Wind District, though, Karalissa stopped.

            “I’m going to head back to Jorrvaskr. You all go ahead.”

            Cassius was confused. “What? You don’t want to bash Balgruuf, Karl?”

            Karalissa shook her head, smiling a little. “It’s not my place to fight for the Stormcloaks, and I have no desire to.”

            Cass grumbled, shifting the axe from hand to hand. “But all those years ago, you said you wanted to join the ranks.”

            “I only wanted to join to be with you, brother. We’re not wanderers anymore.” Karalissa explained, earning an understanding look from Vilkas. “My place is to defend the people of the Hold. If Balgruuf the Greater wants a fight, I’ll fight. Not for the Stormcloaks or the Imperials, but for the citizens of Whiterun.”

            Cass sighed. “I understand, Karl.” He nudged her shoulder with his elbow. “Sure you don’t want to come? The look on his face will be priceless.”

            Karalissa laughed, but shook her head still. “I’ll have to manage with a detailed story.” She looked to Vilkas. “Have fun, you all. I’ll be at home.”

            Cassius mumbled his words of departure, then turned back to Dragonsreach. I lingered long enough to see Vilkas kiss Karalissa’s forehead, then quickly rejoin us. I put my hand on his shoulder, and the two of us followed behind Cass all the way past the Shrine of Talos.

            As we ascended the steps, we passed Nazeem. He gave my husband a once over, then spoke. “Do you get to the Cloud District very often?” He laughed. “What am I saying? Of course you don’t.”

            Cassius turned back to face the Redguard. “Where the hell do you think we’re headed? Gods, what a pompous son of a—”

            “Let’s just focus on the task at hand, Cass.” I reminded him as Vilkas laughed.

            We reached the doors of Dragonsreach a few moments later, and Cassius led the grand entrance. The three of us waltzed up to the Jarl, no doubt frightening Proventus and irritating Irileth.

            Jarl Balgruuf, who sat awkwardly in his throne, seemed thrilled to see us. “Dragonborn! What a surprise.” He straightened up. “Is there some matter I can assist you with?”

            “Cut the bullshit, Balgruuf.” Cass said. He extended the axe toward the Jarl. “Ulfric Stormcloak has asked me to deliver this to you.”

            I’m not sure what I expected, but it wasn’t a laugh. That, however, is what we received. “Has he now? The man is persistent, I’ll give him that.” He sighed, looking to his steward. “I suppose it’s time I give him an answer. Proventus, what do you make of all this? If Ulfric were to attack Whiterun…”

            Proventus was a nervous wreck. “As in all things, Lord, caution. I urge us to wait and see…”

            Irileth scoffed. “Prey waits.”

            “I’m of a mind with Irileth.” Balgruuf said, looking toward Proventus. “It’s time to act.”

            Proventus was sweating buckets. “You want us to march on Windhelm?”

            “I’m not a fool, Proventus. I mean it’s time to challenge Ulfric to face me as a man, or to march his Stormcloaks up to the gates.”

            “He’ll do no such thing!” Proventus exclaimed. “A dagger in the back is all you should expect.” I noticed Cassius growing increasingly excited. This was exactly what he wanted to hear.

            Irileth rolled her eyes. “He was rather straight-forward with Torrygg.” Vilkas and I exchanged a look. This was getting intense.

            “Torrygg? He simply walked up to the boy and murdered him!” Proventus noted.

            “That ‘boy’ was the High King of Skyrim.” Irileth countered, crossing her arms.

            Jarl Balgruuf released a great sigh. “I am not the High King, but neither am I a boy. If Ulfric wants to challenge my rule in the old way, let him.” He snorted. “Though I suspect he’ll prefer to send his ‘Stormcloaks’ to do it for him, just as he’s done today.”

            Irileth nodded. “He’s already proven his personal strength. Now he seeks to prove his army’s.”

            Proventus shifted uncomfortably. “Then might I urge you to consider General Tullius’ request? I mean, if you are bent on offending Jarl Ulfric…”

            “Ulfric is the one who has offended.” Irileth mumbled. “But Proventus has a point. Ulfric has made it clear.” She gestured to the axe. “In his mind, to refuse his claim is to side with the Empire.”

            “And what harm is there is letting a few legionnares die in place of your own men?” Proventus added.

            “It seems cowardly.” Balgruuf said.

            Irileth laughed. “Was it cowardly, then, to accept the White-Gold Concordat?”

            “This again?” The Jarl was growing angry. “That was different. Was I given a choice to object the terms of the treaty? No. The Jarls weren’t asked. We were told. And we had to like it.”

            “The chests of gold didn’t hurt.” Proventus grumbled.

            “Damnit! This isn’t about gold!” Balgruuf yelled.

            “It’s time to decide.” Cass said, interrupting the dispute.

            Proventus looked at us, then back at the Jarl. “Lord, wait. Let us see if Ulfric is serious.”

            Vilkas snickered. “Oh, he’s serious.”

            “And so am I.” Balgruuf the Greater noted, standing from his throne. He pushed the axe back toward Cassius. “You can return this axe to our friend. The esteemed Jarl of Windhelm has my answer. Make sure he gets it.”

            “As you wish, Balgruuf.” Cass said, nodding to Irileth as he turned to leave. “But if I were you, I’d write that letter to Tullius. You’re gonna need those legionnaires.”

            With that, we left Dragonsreach, a fight on the horizon.


	11. New Plans

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aela and Farkas discuss their plan-of-action with Karalissa.
> 
> POV: Farkas

            “On a moonless night, he cast his spell and dove into the thrashing purple waves. He kept his mind on the world of possibilities; that books could sing, that green was blue, that that water was air, that every stroke and kick brought him closer to a sunken ship filled with treasure. He felt magicka surge all around him as he pushed his way deeper down. Ahead he saw a ghostly shadow of the Morodrung, its mast billowing in a wind of deep-water currents. He also felt his spell begin to fade. He could break reality long enough to breathe water all the way back up to the surface, but not enough to reach the ship.”

            I leaned against the barrier behind me, listening to Lissa read. She usually made funny faces when she read the good parts, but today she didn’t. I reached out and touched her hand, and she looked up.

            “What’s wrong, Farkas?” she asked me.

            “That’s what I was going to ask you, Lissa.”

            Lissa closed the book, leaning back in her chair. She looked toward Dragonsreach from where we sat in the courtyard. Vilkas, Cassius, and Lydia had been up there a long time now. Well, not that long. But as soon as Lissa was home, I wanted to give her the book I’d found.

            “I’m just worried about what the Jarl will decide. If he sides with Ulfric, then we won’t have much to act upon.”

            I nodded. “But if he doesn’t?”

            “Then the Stormcloaks will march on Whiterun, and we have to decide what to do to defend our people.”

            Aela came through the door as Lissa spoke, and she joined us at our table. She picked up on what we were talking about pretty quick. “They’re still up there, huh? How long does it take to give the man an axe?”

            “Apparently a long time.” I said, tapping Aela’s foot with my own under the table.

            Lissa leaned toward us. “If the Stormcloaks march, it’s our duty to protect our people. Vilkas wants to fight, and that’s fine. But we will defend Jorrvaskr before we defend the Stormcloaks.”

            “Understood and agreed, Harbinger.” Aela said. “We can gather most of Whiterun in Jorrvaskr until the battle is over. If they choose to stay out and fight, they can, but we can provide shelter until it passes.”

            Lissa nodded. “I agree entirely. That’s what we’ll do, then.”

            Right on cue, Vilkas rounded the corner to the courtyard. We watched quietly as he approached. Once he reached us, he pulled out the chair next to Lissa and sat. He wrapped his arm around her shoulder and gave her a long kiss on the cheek.

            “Can I make assumptions, then?” Aela asked.

            Vilkas nodded. “Aye. Jarl Balgruuf has refused the axe.” He turned toward us. “Cassius and I are returning to Windhelm now to inform Jarl Ulfric.”

            Lissa nodded. “Vilkas, my brother becomes very involved in his journeys if he’s passionate enough. Believe me when I tell you that he is passionate enough.”

            “I believe you, Kara.”

            Lissa laughed, but leaned toward him again. “Please, please don’t get yourself killed.”

            I cleared my throat. “I also don’t want you to die, Vilkas.”

            My brother laughed. “I’ll be fine. I promise.” He gave Lissa a long kiss before he stood again. He put his hand on the side of Lissa’s face. “I’ll be back. I love you.”

“I love you too, Vilkas.” she said. Vilkas smiled and he patted my back before he left the same way he came.

            Aela looked around at us. “It’s settled, then.” she said. “For Whiterun.”

            Lissa nodded. “For Whiterun.”

 

 

            The day of the fight was here, and most of Whiterun was inside of our home. The Battle-Borns had not wanted to be near the Gray-Manes, and they were out roaming the streets of Whiterun. Torvar and Athis were in the courtyard guarding the backdoors, while Lissa and I watched the front. Aela stood at the top of the Skyforge, her bow drawn and ready to fire at anyone who got too close but also have a good view of Dragonsreach.

            There were a lot of Imperials in the streets. Apparently, Jarl Balgruuf had written to General Tullius, and he had sent a lot of men to help defend Whiterun.

            Lissa leaned against the door, a loaf of bread in her hand. She had eaten a few now, so I took the loaf from her.

            “Farkas! What the—”

            I shook my head at her. “You’re stressing.” I took a bite of the loaf, then tossed it into the grass around Jorrvaskr.

            “I’m not stressing. I’m just—alright I’m stressing.” Lissa said. She laughed a little, but she was still nervous.

            “Want a distraction?” I asked her.

            She raised an eyebrow. “Sure.”

            I leaned against the door next to her. “Aela and I have been talking. About you and Vilkas.”

            “Is that so?”

            “It is.” I said, grinning. “We noticed that this was the first time we’ve heard you two say you loved each other.”

            “Very perceptive, Farkas. As usual.”

            “So? What aren’t you telling us?”

            Lissa shook her head. “I changed my mind. I don’t want a distraction.”

            “It doesn’t work like that.” I said, grinning.

            Lissa’s cheeks were red. “I’m not supposed to tell.”

            I jumped up. “Now you have to tell me, Lissa! You can’t say you have a secret and then not tell me.”

            “I promised Vilkas!”

            “Vilkas tells secrets all the time. I’m sure you remember.” When Lissa nodded, I leaned down to put my head on her shoulder. “Come on, Lissa. We’re supposed to be best friends.”

            Lissa groaned. “Fine, but if I tell you, you have to promise never to tell Vilkas I told you.” I nodded, lifting my head off of her shoulder. Lissa smiled. “Vilkas and I are going to get married.”

            I laughed loudly. “I knew it!” I turned toward the Skyforge. “You owe me a pint!” I shouted.

            “Damnit!” Aela yelled back, and I laughed.

Lissa looked confused, so I explained. “She thought you were with child. I told her that wasn’t it.”

            Lissa’s face turned bright red. “Oh gods, no.” Lissa turned toward Aela. “Stay out of my business! Both of you!” Aela laughed from where she stood, and I couldn’t help but laugh along. It was my favorite sound. Lissa looked up at me. “You both have to act surprised when Vilkas tells you. He wanted to tell you.”

            “I promise I’ll act surprised.” I said to her, ruffling her hair. “So, you’re going to be my little sister, huh? I always wanted a little sister.”

            Lissa rolled her eyes. “Happy to help make your dreams a reality.” I watched as Lissa’s eyes focused over my shoulder, looking at something behind me.

            I turned to see the gates open, and a lot of men in blue uniforms and bear hats came piling in. I looked down at Lissa, who drew her bow and got an arrow ready. I pulled my greatsword from my back.

            “This is it, then.” Lissa said, bouncing from foot to foot. “This is it.”

            “Ready?” I asked, looking down at her.

            She looked back up at me, a grin on her face. “Ready.” We both turned back to the gate with a nod, waiting for the right moment to swing and shoot.


	12. New Problem

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Battle for Whiterun is taking place, but as usual, there is an unexpected turn of events.
> 
> POV: Aela the Huntress

            I stood on top of the Skyforge, my bow ready as the men began to pile in. The Imperials had built several barriers throughout the city, blocking each entrance to the different districts of Whiterun. As the blue cuirasses began to invade the sea of red below me, and the bloodshed ensued, I could do nothing but watch and wait.

            I looked left, down at Farkas and Lissa, who also stood with their weapons drawn. I hoped that the Stormcloaks had be briefed on the notion of not storming Jorrvaskr, because I really didn’t want to have to kill a bunch of dumb Nords before lunch time.

            The fight began outside of War Maiden’s as smoke began to billow up from around the city’s walls. The battle cries of men could be heard over the ball of fire that were flying toward the shops. Belethor’s General Goods quickly went up in flames, the hay surrounding the shop only further igniting the roasting.

            It was difficult to see what was happening, as most of the fighting had happened outside of the gates and on the Plains District. However, slowly and surely, the sounds of men approaching held my attention. The Imperial soldiers and Whiterun guards that cluttered both the Wind and the steps to the Cloud District looked nervous, but they had built barriers. Surely, that would buy them some time.

            **FUS RO DAH**

            Ah, and apparently the barriers were out of the question as Cassius shouted, blowing both wooden stakes and men out of his path. He emerged not moments later, Vilkas and Lydia right behind him. The Imperials charged, and that’s when the real fight began.

            I watched, my bow drawn and an arrow knocked, as Lydia swung with impressive speed at two Whiterun guards. She struck one first, then raised her leg to kick the other away from her. As he staggered back, another guard approached her from behind. Sensing the attacker, Lydia quickly spun on her heel, her sword grazing the soft flesh of the guard’s neck, then drove the blade through his chest. It stuck, though, and as the man she kicked returned, she ducked and avoided his blade.

On the ground, Lydia yanked her sword from the fallen guard’s chest, and drove it upwards toward the relentless attacker, who devoured her blade with his belly. Lydia stood, jerking her head to the side to push her hair away from her face as she looked for her next target.

            Vilkas was handling his own share of Imperial soldiers closer to the steps of Jorrvaskr. Nothing he couldn’t handle, of course. He raised his greatsword, bringing it down to separate one whole man into two halves. As the crimson flew from his blow, another soldier ran at him, screaming a heinous battle cry. Vilkas used the handle of his sword to strike the man in the face, and as he staggered back, Vilkas drove the blade of his sword through the man’s chest.

            Up ahead of them, Cassius was fending off multiple guards and soldiers who were patrolling the steps. With a simple **YOL** , a stream of fire ejected from between his lips, igniting the men that ran at him. He pulled the broadsword from his hip, swinging at the men approaching him from behind.

Five guards came at him like bullets after that, and Cassius whipped toward them. His lips parted again, and his words formed **IIZ**. With a blast of ice, the five guards were frozen solid, and Cass took the opportunity to stomp in their frozen heads.

            One Imperial went unnoticed by him though, and I quickly aimed my bow toward the man. As I released, the arrow flew and made contact with his eye just before he could strike Cassius. Realizing he’d been helped, Cass turned to me, extending his hand and pointing to me with a wink and a grin.

            As the rest of the Stormcloaks approached to help finish off the guards, Cassius and Vilkas began tearing at the barriers, as Cassius seemed to have exhausted his shouting for the moment. Lydia wasn’t far behind, her blade at her side, but ready to be lifted once again. They made it past the barriers and up the steps to Dragonsreach. When they were out of sight, I heard the booming **FUS RO DAH** again as the doors of Dragonsreach were forced open.

            We watched as the Stormcloaks struggled to finish off the Imperials. Lissa and I fired arrows and took down several guards, while Farkas descended the steps and actually took a few swings. All in all, though, there wasn’t much left for us to do. Realizing they had won the battle, the Stormcloaks celebrated and retreated slowly to the gates.

            I heard Lissa groan below as she looked out at the fire her brother had caused. As it steadily climbed the beamed surrounding the Gildergleam, a wooden beam finally succumbed to the roast and collapsed onto Heimskr’s house. Lissa gasped.

            “Oh, thank gods he’s inside of Jorrvaskr.” She shouted to me. “We’re going to have to house him.”

            I laughed. “He can have Farkas’ room!” I hollered back. I listened to them laugh, and then they picked up a conversation low enough and far enough away that I couldn’t quite make it out.

            I turned back to Dragonsreach, watching and waiting for the trio to emerge again. I was honestly wishing I’d followed, just to see the look on Balgruuf’s face when the Dragonborn he felt responsible for took his seat from him. No doubt Vignar was inside Jorrvaskr with Brill coming up with interior design elements for their new home, now that Balgruuf was removed.

            A muffled grunt pulled my attention away from the Cloud District. I cocked my head to the side, waiting to hear it again. It came along with the sound of a scuffle. I heard Farkas’ grumbled protest, and I jerked my head toward Jorrvaskr. Below, Lissa was paralyzed on the ground, and I had looked just in time to see Farkas go down too. I felt my jaw drop, but I readied my bow, aiming for the men in blue robes and Imperial armor surrounding them.

            “Hey! What the hell do you think you’re doing?” I shouted, firing an arrow at one of the men. He fell, but the others began to work quickly. I raced as quickly as I could down the hill of the Skyforge, but as I reached the bottom, I tripped. I heaved myself off of the ground, chasing after the men hauling them away, but I was too late. They’d hoisted them over the wall, and they were gone by the time I reached the spot they were just standing in.

            My mind was racing, and my skin was crawling. I scratched at my arms, trying to think of what to do. Athis and Torvar came running from the courtyard.

            “Did you see that?” Torvar yelled.

            “Of course I saw it, you idiot! Why didn’t you stop them?” I shouted back.

            “They were too fast, Aela.” Athis said. “They were gone before we could catch them.”

            I pressed my palms to my temple, willing my brain to think straight. It came to me then, and I raced toward Dragonsreach, knowing I needed Vilkas’ help. I stumbled up the steps and made it to the bridge just as Vilkas and Cassius were exiting, smiles on their faces as they looked up at me.

            Their faces fell when they saw me frantically sprinting at them though. When I was close enough, I grabbed Vilkas’ chest.

            “They’ve taken them, Vilkas. They took Karalissa and Farkas.” I gasped.

            “What? What the hell are you talking about?” he said, putting his hands on my shoulders.

            “They’re gone, Vilkas. I tried to get to them, but I couldn’t.”

            Cassius, stepped into my line of sight. “Aela, what the hell are you trying to say?”

            I took a breath. “A group of men, Imperials, they paralyzed Lissa and Farkas, and they took them. We have to go after them.” I held Vilkas’ face between my hands. “We have to track them, Vilkas.”

            He looked at me long and hard, processing what I’d told him. “Aye. We have to track them.” He pulled my hands away from his face. “Show me.”

 

            We ran through the woods, the trees blurring around us. Cassius was close behind us, stumbling along as we frantically inhaled the air, following Lissa and Farkas’ scent. Cassius was incredibly confused as we began to speak.

            “I can follow this, but not very accurately.” Vilkas said, his eyes darting back and forth as he searched to pick up the scent again. “It would be easier if I transformed.”

            I shook my head. “I still have a decent hold. It’s this way.” I said, pointing toward the lake in the distance.

            As we bolted forward, Cassius managed to talk through heavy breaths. “What the hell are you talking about? You can’t just sniff someone out!”

            We ignored him as we neared the river’s edge. I waited for my eyes to focus, the ground glowing in red patches where there had been footsteps recently. I counted the feet. “One, two, three…it looks like eight, Vilkas. They would have needed that many to carry Farkas.” I crouched down, my eyes connecting the dots between the footsteps and locating a path. “Fifty-four paces Southwest, then at least twenty due south of pace fifty-four.”

            Vilkas was shaking violently, but he could respond. “Fifty-four, got it. Let’s move.”

We ran forward, following the red patches only I could see on the ground. Once we reached the last pace, we turned south, running toward the scent we could manage to locate.

            Vilkas grumbled again, his tremors transitioning into twitching and snapping. “I can’t fight it, Aela.” He said through his teeth, a low growl building in the back of his throat.

            “Damnit Vilkas, I need _you_ right now.” I said to him, crouching down for more tracks. “Get a grip.” Vilkas took a few breaths, and his shaking eased considerably. “Good. Now, it looks like sixty-one paces southwest again.”

            Cassius huffed and puffed beside us, growing angrier the more we excluded him. “Someone talk to me. How the hell are you doing this?”

            As we moved, I yelled to Vilkas. “Either you have to explain or I’ll snap his neck! I can’t focus with the chatter.” It felt harsh as I said it, but I could only think of Farkas. I couldn’t lose him. Not like this. Not again.

            As I slowed to a stop, stooping down to locate more tracks, Vilkas put his hand on Cassius’ shoulder. “Don’t panic.” he said.

            “That makes me want to panic, Vil.”

            Vilkas shook his head. “We have abilities, Cassius. Abilities that frighten people, that kill people, but abilities that are the only thing that can find Kara and Farkas. Now, we have to be quiet so Aela can track.”

            “Twenty-six south.” I said, and they followed after me as I began running again.

            “This doesn’t make any sense!” Cassius yelled. “Abilities? What are you getting at?”

            Vilkas stopped running and looked at Cass. “We’re wolves, Cassius. Werewolves.”

            Cassius stared at us, his eyes darting back and forth between us. “Please tell me you’re joking.” We just stared back until he spoke again. “Gods, I’m begging you. Say you’re joking.”

            I rolled my eyes, crouching down again to collect tracks. “Seventy-two southwest.” Vilkas and I took off again, Cassius stumbling behind.

            “Are you trying to tell me that you two turn into giant wolves?” he yelled after us. "Are you trying to tell me that my _sister_ is a a giant wolf?"

            “Yes!” Vilkas yelled back, ignoring Cassius' plethora of profanities. 

            As we ran, I saw a river approaching. “No, no, no.” I chanted, praying that’s not where the tracks were leading me.

            They were, unforturnately, and I dropped to my knees at the edge, scowering the ground for any trace of heat. There was none, though. No color, no heat, no trail.

            I felt myself begin to cry, overwhelmed by all of the sudden desperation I felt. All I could think about was Farkas tied up somewhere, being tortured. Through my tears, I remembered a story Skjor told me once, about a man who’d been held prisoner in the Great War.

            Wait, Skjor. Skjor, of course! I thought back to our days in the fields, our nights spent training and hunting. Once, we had tracked an elk several miles, only to have lost the tracks in the water.

            _“You’re smart, Aela. You can figure it out. If you can’t track the heat…”_

            “Track the moisture.” I said. “Track the moisture!” I focused on the ground, my eyes adjusting from locating heat to locating different ground substance. Slowly, wet purple footprints began to appear on the ground, giving me a general direction in which to head.

            I nodded to Vilkas, who seemed relieved that I had something. I grabbed his hand. “It’s going to take a long time, longer than I’d like it to, but I think I can switch tracking methods and follow them.”

            “Just get us there, Aela. That’s all that matters.” Vilkas said, following me as I walked forward.

            The three of us pressed on, further into the woods around us as I continued chasing after ghostly footprints, nothing but hope and desperation driving us forward.


	13. Lost

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Farkas and Karalissa have been captured. Will they be able to survive, or is this the end of our story?
> 
> POV: Farkas

            It was summertime. The sun in Whiterun was warm and there was a cool breeze. I looked beside me, and I saw Vilkas. His arm was around Lissa’s shoulders, and she was looking at me with my favorite smile of hers. Their children, two boys and a girl, were walking ahead of us. My brother looked so happy, and as I smiled back at him, I felt a tap on my left shoulder. On the other side of me, Aela stood with Skjor, hand in hand. I was happy to see him, and he was so happy to be with Aela. He held her against him, her head resting perfectly below his chin. She reached out to me, and I took her hand. She spoke to me, “Farkas?” But the voice wasn’t hers.

            I blinked, only for a second, and her hand was now Jergen’s. He stood above me and my brother, now small. He smiled like a lie, then left us. Vilkas started to cry, and when I asked him what was wrong, he spoke. “Farkas?” But the voice wasn’t his.

            I blinked again, and now I stood in a field with Kodlak. The sky was beautiful and purple, and a great rhythmic chant rang out around us. I looked up at him, my father, and he smiled. I asked him where Vilkas was, and he told me my brother would be with us soon. Just not now. Then he touched my face. “You have to wake up.”

            I jolted awake. I was chained to a wall by my arms, unable to move. The walls were stone, and a fire was burning low in the corner. I remembered then that the Imperials had taken us. They hadn’t hurt us yet, but they asked a lot of questions about Jarl Ulfric. We hadn’t spoken yet.

            “Farkas?” The voice was here, beside me. I looked left, and saw Lissa. Her eyes were swollen and puffy, and I remembered that when I fell asleep she had been crying. She was chained to the wall too. Both of us were resting on our knees.

            “Lissa. Are you still okay?”

            She nodded. “Are you?”

            “Yes. How many days has it been?”

            She looked around. There were dark circles under her eyes. “Four, I think.” She looked at me. She looked scared. “Farkas, I heard them talking. They’re bringing torturers.”

            I looked at her for a moment, then I nodded. “Tell me what to do, Lissa. Do I talk, or do I fight?” She didn’t answer as we heard footsteps in the hall. She didn’t have to. Her eyes said fight.

            The door opened, and a bunch of Imperials walked in. They lined the room, but waited quietly as a group of high elves walked in. A man stepped toward us. No one else spoke while he did.

            “Well, I see we’ll be having fun today.” He said, looking at us. “Two Nords unwilling to speak. Luckily for you, I make a living off of getting people to talk.” He signaled for two men to step forward, and they did. One stood in front of each of us. “I’ll make this very simple for you. I’ll ask questions, and all you have to do is say ‘yes’ or ‘no’. If you refuse to cooperate, you’ll be shocked with several thousand volts of electricity.”

            I looked at Lissa, but she stared at the elf. Her jaw was locked. Ready for the pain. I sent a silent prayer to Kodlak, asking him to help.

            “Alright then. We’ll start easy.” The elf said. He looked at me, then pointed to Lissa. “You. You live in Whiterun.”

            She stayed silent, staring at the elf still. He waited a moment, then nodded to the man in front of her. His hands started glowing, and then he zapped her. She screamed and her head flew back, but she didn’t speak. Once the sparks stopped, Lissa coughed and spit, but she straightened back up, ready to take it again.

            The elf laughed. “Ah, a tough one.” He walked forward, and then he knelt beside her. “I’ll let you in on a little secret, Nord. We already know the answers.” Lissa laughed at him. We both knew it wasn’t true.

            The elf stood, and moved toward me. “Are you both Companions? You were found outside of Jorrvaskr, so we made assumptions.” I ground my teeth together, ready to take the pain. It came quickly, and felt like it lasted for a year. I couldn’t think, and all I felt was fire in my chest and in my brain. It stopped, and I pulled my head up. I looked at Lissa, nodding to her that I was fine. Her face was horrified.

            The elf looked at Lissa again. “No cooperation? Not even on the easy questions.” He clicked his teeth. “Fine, fine. No matter. We’ll just move on to the harder questions.” He took a breath. “Which city will Ulfric Stormcloak march on next?”

            Neither of us answered because we didn’t know, and we were both zapped. I could hear Lissa screaming over the buzzing in my brain, and when it was over, we both sat back up. The elf laughed.

            “Alright, clearly we have to change our tactic. We’re running out of magicka, and we’ll need that later.” He sent the mages away, and signaled for a new man to come forward. He had a dagger. “Perhaps, they’re mute. Maybe they can’t speak at all.” He pointed to me, and the man walked behind me. I felt him press the blade to my ear, ready to cut it off.

            “Who is the leader of Ulfric’s advances? Who makes the plans?” The elf waited, but neither of us said anything. He shook his head, like he was disappointed, but then he nodded to the man behind me. He grabbed my ear, and I yelled as the sharp blade cut the top of my ear.

            “Galmar! Galmar Stone-Fist.” Lissa screamed beside me. The elf signaled for the man to stop. The man walked around to stand in front of us again, and I looked at Lissa. She looked at me like she was sorry, but her eyes told me what to do. Fight, but don’t let each other get hurt. I nodded as the elf laughed.

            “So she does speak.” The elf kept laughing as he pointed to Lissa. The man stepped toward her, pinching her nose between his fingers and pressing the blade against it. “Alright. Do the Stormcloaks have a camp in Whiterun Hold?”

            Lissa looked scared, but she didn’t say anything. I didn’t know the answer. When Lissa gasped, and I saw blood trickle down her nose, I spoke. “Yes.”

            The elf in charge stepped forward, pushing the man at Lissa’s nose aside and replacing the blade with his own. He grabbed her nose hard, and looked at me. “Where?”

            “Don’t tell him.” Lissa said. The elf shrugged at me, and began to cut the side of her nose again. There was more blood. Make something up. Make something up.

            “The bottom of that big mountain.” I told him, and he let go of Lissa’s face. He crouched down beside her, running his hand against the side of her face. Lissa tried to move her face away, but she couldn’t get too far away from him. He ran his fingers over her lips. “Get away from her.” I said through my teeth, shaking against my chains.

            The elf laughed, then patted Lissa’s head. He ran his hand through her hair. “Very pretty.” Then, he grabbed a fistful and cut it off with his dagger. Lissa winced, but recovered after a moment. The elf held the wad of Lissa’s hair in front of her face, then tossed it at me.

            He signaled for a big man to come forward. I felt my chain coming loose around my wrist. I took a second to count the amount of people in the room. Seventeen. If I could get loose, maybe I could fight enough off to give Lissa a moment to get free.

            The big man stood in front of me, waiting for the elf to speak. He did after a minute. “What city will the Stormcloaks march on next?” I looked at Lissa, and she shook her head. She didn’t know. I waited for the pain.

            The man punched me in the face. My head whipped to the side, and I heard Lissa gasp. After a moment, I lifted my head again. The elf asked again. “What city will the Stormcloaks march on next?” No words.

            He hit me again. I blinked, trying to make the purples and blues go away. Things were blurry, but I could mostly see. Lissa opened her mouth to speak, but I grunted at her. There would be no right answer. She would have to make something up. The elf asked again.

            He hit me again. This time was very hard, and the purple came back. I heard blood hit the floor, flying from my mouth. Lissa started screaming for him to stop, and the elf laughed as he asked again.

            Hit again. Lissa was yelling. “The Reach! Ulfric will march on the Reach next.” The purple was everywhere, and I could smell something. My brother? Was my brother here?

            Again. No, it was the dream. Vilkas was with his children in the dream. I was playing with hide and seek with them, and Lissa was laughing as she tried to find us. Even Vilkas was laughing along.

            Again. Lissa was screaming, “Stop! Please! You’re killing him!” Were they killing me? I saw Aela and Skjor, standing with each other. Then it was only Skjor, waiting for me with the wolves.

            Again. A memory. Kodlak took us fishing, because Jergen never did. Kodlak showed us how to bait a hook, and how to cast a line. We never caught anything.

            Again. Lissa was crying, but all I could see was Skjor. He stood in the field, his hands on his hips. He held his hand out for me, helping me get to him. A big man stood behind him. He had a skull for a head. Lissa read about him, Hircine. The Hunting Grounds.

            Again. I was dying. Lissa was screaming and growling. I could hear her chains shaking. So loud. Too loud. I heard a laugh from somewhere in the room.

            Again. A memory. I was holding Aela in my arms, kissing her neck. She laughed quietly against my bare chest. She was warm. But Skjor could see us from where he stood in the field. His heart was breaking. It was hurting him to watch. I was hurting him.

            Again. A memory. Vilkas was crying. Kodlak was dead. Vilkas loves Lissa. Vilkas told my secret. I love Aela. Gods, I love Aela.

            Again. The ground beside me shook, and I heard the chains rip from the walls. There was a howl. Was it the wolves, waiting for me?

            There were no more hits. No more blows. All I heard were screams.

            Then, it was black.


	14. Found

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Vilkas, Aela, and Cassius track Karalissa and Farkas to a fort in The Rift. What they find inside, though, is heartbreaking. 
> 
> POV: Vilkas

            I thought the most horrific night of my life had passed long ago. However, as we ran down the hallway as we heard voices from down the hall, accompanied by grunts and screams, it became evident that this night would reach the peak of my list.

            “The Reach! Ulfric will march on the Reach next.” It was Kara’s voice, no doubt succumbing to whatever torture was being delivered to them. It wasn’t true, so she must have made something up to make them stop. We were too far away to know an exact location, but Aela and I could sense a general direction. The three of us sauntered quietly down a dark hall.

            There was more talking, more blows, loud enough for us to hear. “Stop! Please! You’re killing him!” Cassius bolted ahead of us, running toward the sound of his sister’s voice. Aela and I, too, started running, the word ‘him’ burning a new fire in my heart.

            Then, we heard the growling, the chains clanking, and the howling and snarling that came soon after. Cassius slowed to a stop, our explanation to him finally becoming believable. He looked back at us, but we pressed on, unafraid of something that we carried under our own skin.

            The screams of men came soon after, and we were finally able to locate the room where they were being held. We stood outside the door, listening to the sound of death on the other side. Cassius ran forward, grabbing the handle.

            “Wait!” Aela said to him, putting a hand on his arm. “You have to listen to us first.”

            “What the hell are you talking about? They’re in there!” His eyes were frantic.

            “Whoever transformed can seriously hurt you.” I told him. “Do not get in their way. Stay against the wall.”

            He stared at us a moment, then nodded. I pushed the door open, and the three of us wedged our way in.

            Inside, a large, dark wolf was ripping the arms off of an elf and eating them over him. The room was splattered in blood and cluttered with dead men. Nearly twenty bodies to step over, and we all snuck quietly around the edge of the room.

            I saw my brother chained to the wall next to ours, surrounded by the scraps of leather armor, and I inched toward him. I passed Cassius, who looked absolutely horrified as he realized it was his sister eating a man alive. As the elf screamed, the wolf version of Kara used a single claw to rip out his tongue. He gurgled through his blood.

            I moved slowly toward my brother, whose face was bloody and broken. Both of his eyes were swollen shut, and his jaw was hanging open. At first glance, one would have thought him dead. I could hear his heart beating, though, faintly in his burly chest. When I reached him, I tried to free his wrists of the chains.

            “Brother?” he mumbled, his head moving to look up in my direction, though I doubted he could see me.

            “Aye. It’s me.” I fumbled with the lock a bit more, but it wasn’t coming off. Aela was searching bodies for a key, to no avail. Cassius was still pressed against the wall, watching as Kara finally killed the man.

            “Talk to her.” Farkas said quietly. He meant my ability, of course, though I wasn’t sure I could speak to her outside of my wolf body. “She’ll listen to you.”

            I turned toward her, standing with my hands on my brother’s shoulders. I waited for her to finish tearing at the dead elf’s body and straightened to speak.

            _Kara._

            The wolf turned toward me quickly, seeming to have heard me. She looked at me, blood dripping from her jaws. The entire front of her body was caked in crimson, matting her fur to a state of stiffness. I could still smell the beast’s control over her, but her mind was her own. She waited for me to speak again.

            I patted the binds that held my brother. _Chains._

            She paused a moment, then stalked toward us. Cassius was staring with his mouth hanging open, and Aela walked toward him to try to mask his scent. The beast was likely to be calm with other wolves, but she may not be able to control herself if she smelled Cassius’ blood.

            As the wolf approached, I stiffened, but Farkas seemed completely at ease, even free of pain. The wolf leaned down to his face, bumping my brother’s face with her nose.

            My brother laughed a little, then coughed. “Thank you, Lissa.” he mumbled. The wolf grabbed the chains with her paws, easily ripping them from the wall. I supported Farkas as he was released, helping him stand. He walked toward Aela, who wrapped her arms around his torso and walked him to Cassius. He looked away from the wolf finally, and took full support of Farkas’ bodyweight.

            The wolf still stared at me, waiting for me to speak again. I moved toward her slowly, trying not to startle her. The wolf breathed heavily, panting in exhaustion and thirst. As I reached her, I put my hands on either side of her snout.

            _Safe._

            The wolf whimpered, pressing her head against my face. I scratched the side of her face, trying to calm her enough to return to her human form.

            Aela came up from behind, her hand on the wolf’s back. She looked at me. “I’ll take it from here, Vilkas.” she said, then tilted her head toward my brother. “Help Cassius get Farkas out of here.”

            The wolf’s head whipped toward the men at the mention of Cassius’ name. It whimpered again as she saw him, still looking absolutely horrified. I gave the wolf another pat before I moved to help my brother leave.

            With one of his arms draped over each of our shoulders, Cassius and I easily supported Farkas as we walked through the halls and out the front door. Outside, snow had covered the terrain once again. It was a cold night, not that it bothered us much. We leaned Farkas against the walls of the fort, waiting for Kara and Aela to join us.

            Cassius was still dumbfounded, but he pulled several potions of healing from his pack and helped my brother drink them. He spat at the horrible taste, but drank them very eagerly. His body relaxed, and some of the swelling reduced in his face.

            When he could see again, he reached for me. I walked toward him, pressing my forehead against his. He relaxed even more, having the comfort of being reminded of our youth. I relaxed too.

            “Thank you.” he mumbled, his breath hot on my nose.

            “I would go anywhere to save you, brother.” I said to him. “I’m sorry I was too late.”

            He pulled away from me, shaking his head. “You came. That’s all that matters.” He looked at Cassius. “Are you okay?”

            He stared at both of us for a moment, then nodded. “Is my sister okay?”

            Farkas and I exchanged a look, and my brother shrugged. I offered a look of comfort. “She’ll be fine, Cass. She just needs to calm down enough to shift back to human form.”

            He looked confused. “And Aela can help her?”

            “Well, yes. But that was mainly because…we lose our clothes in the transformation.”

            “Ah.” he said quietly, nodding. He was thoughtful for a moment. “Who made her like that? A beast.”

            I tilted my head side-to-side. “Aela, ultimately, but Skjor made the offer. Just as he did for the rest of us.”

            “All of you?” he asked. He was just trying to make sense of it himself.

            “Not all of the Companions, but yes. All of us.” I said. Farkas nodded. I looked to my brother. “How long were you two being…?”

            Farkas seemed confused a moment, but then he understood. “Oh, the beatings? That was just today.”

            “How badly are you injured?” I asked him.

            He shrugged. Not wanting to talk about it.

            Cassius straightened up. “And Karalissa? How badly did they hurt her?”

            Farkas shrugged again. I put my hand on Cassius’ shoulder, asking him silently to leave my brother to think.

            We didn’t have to wait much longer for Aela to come out with Kara. She was wearing a very baggy tunic to cover herself. She was covered in blood from the mouth down, her eyes distant. Aela went to Farkas immediately, holding him as tightly as she could.

            Kara waited a moment, but as her eyes focused on me, she stumbled towards me. I pulled her into my arms, clutching her against my chest as she began to cry. I ran my hand over her hair, trying to soothe her. As I noticed the hair on the right half of her head had been cut off jaggedly, a new kind of anger ruptured in my chest.

            She felt it, and cried harder. “I’m sorry, Vilkas.” she whimpered. “I’m so sorry.”

            I held her face in my hands, wiping the tears away from her face. “You did nothing wrong, pup. Everything is okay. You’re okay now.”

            Kara was frantic. “I killed all of them, Vilkas. I killed them.”

            I hugged her against my chest, trying to calm her down. “You had no choice, Kara. It’s okay.” She continued to cry, clinging to my armored torso.

            We stood like this for a moment, but the sound of voices outside the fort interrupted us.

            “We have to move.” Aela nodded toward the woods, she and Cassius supporting Farkas, and we all moved quickly and quietly to the cover of the trees.

 

            We had built camp near the water several miles away from the fort in the Rift. A small fire burned at our feet, low enough to leave us undetected but bright enough to keep us warm. Cassius and Aela were sleeping on the left side of me, facing away from each other.

Farkas was asleep, his eyes shut above purple bruises on his cheek bones. Kara was out from the moment she sat on the ground, and it was apparent that she hadn’t slept the whole time we were trying to find them. My brother had fallen asleep cradling her, still covered in the blood of her victims, with one arm under her head and the other on her back, shielding her from the world. It was odd, to see my brother holding the woman I loved, but he needed the comfort more than I did, and they had endured things I was likely never to endure.

            Kara sobbed most of the way back from the fort, clinging to me and stumbling along with us. She had killed before, of course, but this time was different. When we unloaded on the Silver Hand all those months ago, it was a collective effort. We both transformed, we both avenged Kodlak, we both killed. This time, she was pushed to the point of transformation, and savagely butchered nearly twenty men on her own. No matter what I tried to comfort her, she didn’t stop crying until she had fallen asleep.

            Farkas hadn’t spoken once since we were outside the fort. He didn’t respond to questions, he didn’t react to anyone’s words. He was absolutely traumatized. It was too early to ask what had happened to them, and I didn’t plan on it. But whatever they inflicted on him was bad enough to drive Kara over the edge.

            I sat against a tree across from my brother and Kara, watching over them and the fields around us. I was utterly alone, though surrounded by my family, and I took that opportunity to explore my own thoughts.

            During our expedition to find them, I had run through all of the possible outcomes. What if we never found them? I never would have stopped looking for them, even if it took weeks or months or years. Until I found bodies, I wouldn’t have stopped.

            I didn’t want to stop now, either. I wouldn’t stop fighting until Ulfric Stormcloak sat in his throne as the High King. After this, the Imperials taking two people who were absolutely innocent in this war and nearly killing them, I wanted the Empire out of my city, out of my country, and out of my sight.

            I looked out at the fields of Skyrim around us, remembering how easy things were a few months ago. Kara had her brother back, Farkas and Aela were content to spend their days drinking and laughing. Even with my father gone forever, I could rest soundly knowing Kara was down the hall, reading a book and humming to herself.

            Things would never be the same again, not after this. If I knew my brother, and I was certain I did, he would take weeks, maybe months to recover from this. And Kara, she was so sweet and kind, and she may never recover from something this brutal.

            Shuffling across from me brought my attention back to the people around me. Kara was wiggling free from Farkas, as quickly as she could manage without waking him. Once she was standing, she rushed toward the water near us, dropping to her knees and scrubbing at her face. She dipped her whole head in the water, trying to remove every spot of blood from her body.

            As she washed the blood away in the moon’s light, I stood and unbuckled the chest plate of my armor. Once it was off, I set it aside and pulled the loose, ratty shirt I wore beneath it off and walked to Kara. She had stood from the water’s edge, looking down at her reflection in the surface.

            After a moment, she walked back toward the fire. She noticed that I was watching her as I lowered myself back into my spot against the tree. She tiptoed to me and rested on her knees across from me. I extended my arm to her, offering her the shirt to dry her face with. Kara shook her head, not wanting to use my shirt, but I inched forward and dried her face and hair with it anyway.

            I scooted back into my spot as she finished drying her face, resting my arms on my knees in front of me and relaxing my head against the tree. When she was finished drying, Kara crawled forward and sat between my legs. She clutched the shirt to her chest as she rested against me, her head fitting snugly below my chin. I wrapped my arms around her, holding her as close to me as I could.

            “I thought I’d lost you.” I whispered to her, feeling tears form in my eyes.

            She looked up at me, her wet hair brushing against my bare chest. Her brow furrowed, seeing my tears, and she reached up to brush them away from my face. “You found me, Vilkas.” With the crimson washed away from her face, I could see a small cut along her nose.

            I shook my head, unable to stop myself from crying. “Aela found you. I couldn’t.” I ran my hand over her hair. “Look what they’ve done to you. I’m so sorry, Karalissa.”

            Kara’s expression changed when I used her full name. She was confused for a moment, but she continued to wipe tears away from my face. “It’s just hair, Vilkas.”

            “I know there was more than that, Kara. It took us _days_ to find you two.”

            She furrowed her brow again, her eyes distant as she spoke. “They chained us up the moment we arrived, and they ignored us for hours. They asked us questions, the Imperial soldiers, things we didn’t know the answers to. We didn’t lie to them when we said we didn’t know, but they didn’t feed us to punish us anyway.” Kara looked over to Farkas, who was still asleep. She continued at a whisper. “When the torturers came, we could take the threats and the electrocutions. We gave them information, what we knew. We made things up to make them stop.”

            Her face flushed of all color, and she clung to me tightly. “I felt everything he felt, Vilkas. They were beating him to death, and I felt everything.”

            I sniffled. “What do you mean?”

            “The things he thought just before he died. The things he saw.” She looked up at me again. “I felt all of it. He was so upset about something, Vilkas. He was being beaten to death and something was breaking his heart.” She shook her head, trying to erase the memory. “It was the worst thing I’ve ever experienced.”

            I looked over at my brother again, who was still absolutely motionless. “Is he alright now?”

            Kara shook her head. “I don’t feel anything. _He_ doesn’t feel anything.”

            “You saved him, Kara.” I said to her, holding the side of her face. “I can’t thank you enough for that.”

            She just nodded and leaned against my shoulder once again. “I thought I’d lost him, too.”

            I pressed my cheek against the top of her head. “Everything I love was chained to a wall because I wasn’t there to protect them. I shouldn’t have gone with Cassius.”

            Kara sat upright, turning to face me. “Don’t blame yourself, Vilkas. It’s over now. That’s all that matters.”

            “It’s not though, Kara. There’s still a war to fight, still so many cities to take.” I put my hands on either side of her face. “I won’t fight anymore. I’ll stay with you, with my brother, with the Companions. I won’t ever let something like this happen to you again.”

            “Vilkas, do you hear yourself?” She put her hands over mine. “This was not your fault. They would have taken anybody. Farkas and I just happened to be the easiest to take. You can’t protect us from the bad that already exists in the world.”

            I began to cry again as I listened to her speak. “This is the second time now you’ve narrowly survived. I can’t lose you, Kara. I won’t survive it.”

            Kara’s eyes spilled tears too, then. “You won’t lose me, Vilkas. And I won’t lose you.” She ran her hands across my cheeks again, brushing tears away. “We’ll get married and have children and grow old together. Farkas will train our children to be warriors and we’ll sit on the steps of our house and read to them. You’ll have to cook because I just can’t, but I’ll spend the rest of my days trying to make it up to you.”

            I laughed, brushing her hair away from her face. “Words cannot describe how much I love you, Kara.”

            Then, Farkas stirred across from us. He was mumbling about wolves and blood, then he sat straight up. He looked to his side, then all around him, absolutely frantic.

            “Lissa?” he yelled, waking Aela and Cassius. “Lissa!”

            Kara stood immediately and walked toward him. “I’m right here, Farkas.”

            As she sat beside him, he wrapped his arms around her again. “I thought you were gone. I couldn’t find you.” He rested his head against her shoulder again.

            “I’m here Farkas.” She assured him. “You can sleep.”

            “Okay.” he said, shutting his eyes. Within moments, he was asleep again. Kara rested her cheek on the top of his head, looking at me until she fell asleep too.

            I looked over at Cassius, who stared back at me like he’d heard every word between me and Kara. After a moment, he gave me a nod, and went back to sleep. Aela, however, curled her legs to her chest, resting her chin on top of her knees. She watched Farkas sleep, curled up with Kara, alone with her thoughts.

            I turned my attention back to the fields, waiting for the sun to rise again. Waiting for this day to end.


	15. A New Style

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Karalissa needs help from Lydia, and bonding ensues.
> 
> POV: Lydia

            Since their return, Cassius and I had spent a lot of our time in Jorrvaskr. Though it had only been a few days, it felt like years.

            Farkas hadn’t really spent much time outside of Karalissa’s study. He followed around behind her like a lost puppy, trying to stay as close to her as possible. I was positive that when he did sleep, he slept in her room or her study. She didn’t seem to mind, and neither did Vilkas for that matter. Farkas hadn’t said one word to anyone other than Karalissa, and nobody wanted to try to disrupt what made sense to him while he was this fragile.

            It bothered Aela a good deal, though. She seemed to think she’d done something wrong, something that caused him to act this way. We couldn’t figure out what it was though, and she had retreated to her own room to simmer.

            Cassius had told me everything he saw. His sister, who was so innocent and kind, could transform into a large wolf and eat people in a fit of rage. He was so bothered by it at first, but he and Karalissa hadn’t really spoken much beside small talk in the halls.

            Cassius had returned to Windhelm to update Jarl Ulfric that morning, and he promised he would come home as soon as he’d spoken to him. Until then, I was sleeping in the spare room in Jorrvaskr’s living quarters. I wanted to be nearby in case Karalissa needed something, or Farkas came around and started talking again.

            I was curled up in the chair in the corner, writing a bit in my journal, when a knock came at the door. I couldn’t imagine who it could be, because it was so late in the night. For a moment, I expected Cass to be in the frame. After opening the door, though, I was greeted by his little sister.

            “Am I disturbing you?” she asked, her face sad. “I didn’t wake you, I hope.”

            “Not at all. I’m not much of a sleeper.” I said, moving to the side to let her in. She walked past me and into the room, looking around at the shelves and tables.

            She laughed a little. “This was my room several months ago.” She turned to me. “It’s funny, the things you forget you had.”

            I shrugged. “I guess so. I don’t think much about the past.”

            She furrowed her brow. “Why not?”

            I smiled, just enough to fake sincerity. “It’s easier to pretend it never happened.”

            Karalissa nodded, looking down at the item she held in her hands. She extended it to me, and I opened my palm to receive a pair of scissors.

            At my confused glance, Karalissa ran her hand through her hair. “I can’t leave it like this. It looks…” She shook her head, her grip on the longer parts of her hair were like steel. “Can you cut it?”

            “Of course.” I said sympathetically. I pulled the chair I was sitting in out to the middle of the room. She sat in it, getting comfortable while I grabbed a brush from my overnight bag.

            As I began to brush her hair, I noticed her shoulders shaking. I stopped, and walked around to face her, kneeling before her. She was crying, but she seemed to be making a great effort not to.

            “Are you alright?” I asked her, though she clearly wasn’t.

            She shook her head. “Lydia, I don’t want to seem petty.” she began, running her fingers through what was left of her long hair. “I just really liked my hair. I know it seems childish…”

            “I understand, Karalissa.” I said, putting my hand on her shoulder. I stood again, and continued to brush her hair. “I used to have really long hair. Nearly as long as yours.”

            She sniffled. “Why did you cut it?”

            I set the brush to the side and picked up the scissors. Her hair had fallen right above the middle of her stomach before. It had been cut jaggedly on the right half of her face, the shortest piece falling right at her shoulder. I began to cut the rest of her hair, trying to match the length of that shortest piece.

            “I cut my hair when I left home. It was a part of my identity, and I was trying to leave it behind.” I explained, trying to distract her from the snipping sound.

            “Why did you leave home?”

            I took a deep breath as I continued to cut. “I left home because I wasn’t allowed to be who I wanted to be. I was raised with six brothers, all of whom were allowed to be farmers and soldiers and warriors, and I wasn’t. My mother and father expected me to marry a farmer and squeeze out five or six children. Cook, clean, make clothing, look pretty. Spend the rest of my life as a servant to my husband.”

            Karalissa scoffed. “That’s heinous. How could they expect that?”

            “That was just their opinion of women. Men were superior.” I moved to the longer half of her hair, matching it to the length of the other side. “I was actually supposed to marry one of my father’s friends and live on a nearby farm. I was seventeen, and he was more than twice my age.”

            “You’re joking.”

            I laughed. “Afraid not.” I was nearly finished with her hair, and it didn’t look half bad. “I was talkative and opinionated, and a tad bit feministic. They wanted to marry me off, hoping a man would put me in my place.”

            I finished the last of the haircut, and set the scissors aside. Karalissa turned around in her chair to face me. Her eyes were wide. “What did you do?”

            “I bolted the day of the wedding.” I said to her, leaning against the table behind me. “Wedding dress and all, I hopped on a horse and rode all the way to Markarth from Rorikstead, and I worked as a missionary for several years. I cut my hair off because I couldn’t stand how it had looked on what was supposed to be my wedding day. The braids and the flowers and the curls. Every time I thought of it, thought of how easily my family could just pawn me off to someone else, I hated my hair even more. So I just sliced it all off.”

            Karalissa smiled. “It looks good short. I can’t picture you with long hair.”

            “You don’t want to. I look like a bride.” I said with a snort. I handed her the small mirror I had. “Your hair looks good short too.”

            She spent a moment looking at it, adjusting to her new appearance, then she nodded. “Thank you, Lydia.”

            “Anytime, Karalissa.” I said to her, folding my arms. “It’s nice to have a sister. I never had that luxury.”

            She smirked at me. “Neither did I. And I couldn’t agree more.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello all!  
> Thank you for reading my work and giving me feedback! I'm going to be taking a bit of a break from writing, just for a few days. I churned out the majority of this installation in less than a week, and I need some times to figure out what to write next and organize my thoughts.  
> If you have any ideas or critiques for Liberation of Skyrim, please let me know!!


	16. A New Concern

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aela needs to know what's going on with Farkas before she drives herself mad, and she turns to Karalissa for help. 
> 
> POV: Aela the Huntress

            It had been more than a week since they’d returned, and he hadn’t said a word to me.

            Tired of the little voice in my head telling me that it was my fault, that I’d wronged him, I decided to stomp down the hall to Lissa’s room. A hesitated a moment, worried he was in there with her, but I swallowed my nerves and pounded on the door anyway.

            No answer came, and I knocked again. Still no noise, so I pushed the door open. Inside, Farkas was asleep at the desk in the corner, hunch over the table top with his arms sprawled around him. It took all of my strength not to go to him, to help the sleepy Nord up and to his own bed, because there was just no way that was comfortable.

            In the hall beside me, Vilkas’ door opened. He had been sleeping too, his hair scraggly and his eyes just barely open. He squinted at me from his doorway. “Are you alright?”

            I shuffled to close Lissa’s doors, then turned to him. “Do you know where Lissa is?”

            Vilkas blinked a few times, then scratched his beard. “What time is it?”

            “Early.”

            He laughed a little. “She’s not in her room?”

            I pursed my lips. “Would I have asked if she was in there?”

            “Easy, huntress.” He leaned against his door frame. “She went to her brother’s house last night, said she might just sleep there.”

            “Cassius isn’t even—” I stopped myself, not having enough energy to argue with him. “Thanks.” I said over my shoulder, walking away from him quickly.

            I stomped out of Jorrvaskr, down the steps, past Heimskr’s stupid tent, and down to the Plains District. It didn’t take much time to reach Breezehome, and when I did, I didn’t bother with knocking.

            I opened the door, which wasn’t locked for whatever reason, and scared the hell out of Lissa. She was drinking from a mug when I slammed the door open, and when she jumped it spilled all over her. Lydia laughed from the kitchen area of their home.

            I rubbed the back of my neck. “Uh, sorry Lissa.”

            She glared at me, wiping the liquid off of her torso. “No problem, Aela. Thanks for knocking. Very courteous.”

            I snorted at her sarcastic comment, looking to Lydia. “Can I come in?”

            “You already have, Aela.” Lydia countered, a smile on her face. After I shut the door, I pulled a chair from the table in the corner up to the two chairs they were sitting in by the fire. Lissa stared at me, her brow furrowed. I hadn’t really spoken to her since I helped her find clothes in the fort, and I felt a pang of guilt in my heart.

            “Don’t feel guilty.” she said to me, right on cue. She shook her head, her now shoulder-length hair moving right along with her. “It’s been a long week.”

            I laughed. “I forget you already know what the rest of us are feeling.” Lydia joined us, sitting in the seat beside Lissa. “Where is your husband?” I asked her.

            “Cass has gone back to Jarl Ulfric. They’re working out the plans to take The Rift, or so he says.” Lydia handed Lissa another mug of whatever she was drinking to replace the one she’d spilled on herself.

            “Did you stay the night here, Lissa?” I asked, turning to the Harbinger.

            Lissa nodded. “I meant to go back home, back to Farkas, but once I was out, I was out.”

            I nodded. “He was asleep on your desk when I left.”

            Lissa sighed. “I had hoped leaving him would force him to talk to someone. Maybe wander down the hall and say a few words to Vilkas. Maybe wander back to your room with a bottle of wine.” She shook her head. “He’s not well.”

            I took a deep breath. “Lissa, I really don’t want to be this person…the person who has to be nosy and selfish, but I have to know what I did.” At her confused look, I explained. “I know he’s only talking to you, Lissa. I hear him mumbling every once in a while.”

            “Aela, you haven’t done anything. He’s hurting right now.”

            I swallowed my emotions, knowing she would feel them before I could explain. “Why won’t he talk to me?” I asked, desperate for an answer. “Why won’t he look at me?”

            Lissa’s face fell, her mouth stretching into an empathetic grimace. “Aela, it’s really not my place to talk about this.”

            My thoughts flew from my lips like vomit. “Lissa, he won’t even look at me. I’m worried…I’m worried it’s my fault. I just need you to tell me what I did wrong so I can fix it.”

            Lissa shook her head. “You’re not making any sense, Aela.”

            “While you were away, in Solitude,” I began. “Farkas and I slept together. That’s why Njada started that fight, she caught us.”

            Lydia’s eyes widened, leaning back in her chair and listening to the story. “Just the once?” she asked.

            “Well, no.” I looked down at my feet. “And now I’m worried that…maybe that’s all he wanted, and that’s why he’s ignoring me.”

            Lissa nearly choked on her drink. She set the mug down, probably deciding that it wasn’t best to drink anything around me today. “Aela, that’s the most heinous thing I’ve ever heard you say. You know Farkas loves you.”

            “Does he still?”

            Lissa laughed. “Oh my gods, Aela.” She shook her head. “Yes, of course he does. And you love him too.”

            I scowled. “Is it that obvious?” They both nodded. “I don’t understand, then. What’s wrong?”

            Lissa looked at me sympathetically. “It’s really not my place. You need to talk to him.”

            “What happened to him, Lissa?”

            Lissa’s face flushed of all color. “Aela, he saw something, when they were beating him. Something you need to discuss with him.” She nodded to me. “He wants to talk to you, he just doesn’t know how.”

            I nodded. “Then I’ll make him talk.”

            “No, no.” Lissa said. “I don’t mean make him talk, I mean give him some time to figure it out for himself. He’s hurting, Aela.”

            I thought for a moment, about how he’d helped me when I lost Skjor. When _we_ lost Skjor. It came to me then, and I knew exactly what I had to do.

            I stood then. “Thanks, Lissa. I have an idea.” I turned on my heel, headed back to the door.

 

 

            When I returned home, Farkas had moved. He wasn’t in Lissa’s room anymore, and I spent a few moments trying to find him. He had gone back to his room for the first time in days, and I, once again, opened the door without knocking.

            He was inside, sitting on the edge of his bed. He looked up when I entered, but I didn’t give him enough time to think before I started talking to him.

            I sat across from him, cross-legged on the floor. Farkas looked so surprised that I had just barged in, and he opened his mouth to speak, but I cut him off.

            “Once, something terrible happened to me. I lost someone, a man I loved, and I was just…numb. I spent days replaying images, finding his body again and again and again. I could hear his voice in my head, I could smell his musk lingering in his room. I was hollow and weak and unfeeling, barricaded in a coffin of nostalgic sorrow.

“And then, someone rammed their way into my coffin, sat on the floor with me, and talked to me. The same person who held me while I sobbed after returning home and hearing his last words from the mouth of another. The same person who held my hand at his funeral, who made sure I wouldn’t vomit at the sight of his body on top of the forge. The same person who told me that I wasn’t the only one hurting. The same person who told me not to shut him out.

            “I know you’re hurting, Farkas. I thought I’d lost you, and you’re back, but I still haven’t found you.” I inched toward him, grabbing his hand with my own. “Please, don’t shut me out.”

            He was silent for a moment, then he pulled his hand away from mine. He dropped his head into his hands, resting his elbows on his knees.

            “I don’t want to shut you out, Aela.” he mumbled. “I just don’t know how to act now that I know.”

            I was so confused. “What do you mean? What do you know?”

            Farkas kept his face in his hands as he spoke. “The man was hitting me, and I was seeing pictures.”

            I shook my head. “Pictures?”

            He took a few breaths before he continued. “He was going to kill me. I was close to dying.” Farkas looked up at me, his eyes distant. “When Lissa came back from Gallows Rock after…I believed her, but I still didn’t. Do I make sense?”

            I thought for a moment, then realization dawned. I stared back at him, horrified. “You were in the Hunting Grounds?”

            He nodded. “Yes.”

            “Why didn’t you tell someone?”

            “I told Lissa.” he said to me. “I knew she would understand why I feel this way now.”

            “Because she’s been there?”

            Farkas looked me over, assessing whether or not he should continue. “Well, yeah. She’s been there. But she’s seen him, too.”

            I felt a lump form in my throat, threatening to suffocate me. I tried to swallow it. “You’re talking about Skjor, aren’t you?”

            Farkas’ face transitioned from uncertainty to regret. “I’m sorry, Aela. I know it hurts you to talk about him.”

            “It’s okay, Farkas. I want to talk about this.”

            He took a deep breath. “I saw different things. Memories. Things that haven’t happened yet. I saw us, together. So did Skjor, and he was so sad. It was like I had betrayed him. It was breaking his heart.” He looked down at his hands. “I’m so in love you, Aela. I’ve never loved anyone the way I love you. Nothing will change that. It’s just…hard to let myself love you, now that I know that he knows.”

            I stared at him, absorbing everything he told me. It was almost unbelievable. Before, it was easy to push away the things Lissa had said. But now, there was no way to avoid the thoughts, no way to pretend they weren’t real.

            I sat up on my knees, reaching up to hold his face in my hands. He looked so sad, and it was difficult to see him like that. “I think about that all the time.”

            He looked up at me. “You do?”

            “Of course.” I said to him. “I think about it all the time, whether he would be hurt or not. I know it would hurt him, to see us together. But I think it would hurt him even more to know that we were avoiding each other for him.”

            His hand snaked up my arm, putting his hand over mine. “Do you think so?”

            “I know so. Skjor wouldn’t want us to keep being sad, and I can’t be sad anymore, Farkas. I’ve been sad for a very long time, and you make me so happy.”

            He smiled. “I do?”

            “You do. I love you too, Farkas.”

            And just like that, all of the hurt was gone. Every ounce of lingering pain was flushed from my body, drained and cleansed and sealed with a kiss on the lips from the only person I needed in this world.


	17. A New Celebration

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Karalissa is planning a birthday party for Farkas and Vilkas, but Vilkas isn't really interested in celebrating. After the party, Cassius starts some drama. 
> 
> POV: Karalissa

            In the weeks that passed after our return home, a lot had changed.

            For beginners, everything was almost back to normal. The Companions were a thriving group again, since all of the damage from the Battle for Whiterun needed repairing. Though they would prefer to be warriors, I had struck a deal with the whelps: whoever did the most repairs in the city got first pick of the new jobs, and there were some good ones.

            Farkas finally moved out of my shadow and back into Aela’s arms. When he told me about the visions he’d had, the Hunting Grounds waiting for him in the distance, I’d thought he’d need a little while to recover. He needed a bit more than that, it seemed, but after talking with Aela, the two were absolutely inseparable. That was working in our favor, as well, because it was hard to pull one over on Farkas, and this time, we really needed to.

            Once Vilkas let slip that he and his brother had a birthday coming up, I went absolutely nuts. I’d always loved parties of any variety, but birthday parties more than anything. So Aela and I went to work planning a surprise birthday for the both of them.

            The walls of Jorrvaskr were paper thin, though, and it didn’t take Vilkas very long to figure out what was going on. I remember the look on his face exactly, so exasperated with me but still so humored. As it turned out, he hated celebrating his birthday, but he was more than willing to help plan to surprise Farkas. He had begun composing a shopping list of party supplies a few days earlier.

            _“It’s exactly what he needs to lift his spirits. I’ll make a list of things he likes to eat.”_

            When their birthday finally rolled around, Aela took Farkas out of the city to distract him. I didn’t know what they were doing, and I didn’t care to know, as close as they’d become. Vilkas and I had gone to my brother’s home to make the cake.

            Since Lydia couldn’t cook and I had a brutal history with birthday cakes, Vilkas was the one cooking. She and I sat, wide-eyed and amazed, as Vilkas showed off his impressive culinary skills. He was mixing with one hand, adding ingredients with the other, and still carrying on a conversation with us.

            Both mine and Lydia’s jaws dropped as he cracked an egg with one hand and added it to the bowl.

            “What the hell? How did you do that?” Lydia shouted at him.

            Vilkas jumped, startled at her loud question. “Do what?”

            I pointed to the bowl. “You cracked an egg, and you didn’t get any shell in the mix!”

            Vilkas looked between the two of us, his eyes darting back and forth as he continued to mix. “Yes, pup. That’s what you’re supposed to do.”

            Lydia snorted. “But _how_ did you do it?”

            Vilkas stared at us like we were insane. “You just…crack it. I don’t know how to explain this to you.”

            I rolled my eyes at him and turned to Lydia. “I couldn’t do that even if I was trying. I almost did once, but I got so excited that I dropped the whole shell in, and then it didn’t even count.” I rested my head on the table, suddenly feeling very disgruntled.

            Lydia nudged me. “I can’t even figure out the correct amount of force to put on the egg to crack it. I always end up smashing them.”

            Vilkas was still mixing, but he was using his other hand to prepare a pan. He was rubbing butter along the sides, then dusting it with powdered sugar.

            “What’s the butter for?” Lydia asked.

            “To keep the cake from sticking to the pan.” Vilkas responded.

            “And what’s the sugar for?” I asked him, raising my head to look into the pan.

            Vilkas stared at me for a second, then he squinted at me. He stopped mixing, holding the pan in front of my face. “This is flour, Kara. Talos above, it’s an entirely different substance.”

            I felt my jaw drop. “They look exactly the same!”

            “Sugar is granulated, Kara.” Vilkas said, returning to his mixing. He added two more eggs.

            “Not the powdered kind!” I countered. “Sorry I’m not fit to be the Gourmet, like you.”

            “They’re both white baking things.” Lydia added from beside me. “Who gives a damn about it being granulated?”

            Vilkas snorted. “And this is why I’m making the cake.”

            Lydia rolled her eyes. “I’m going up to Jorrvaskr to see how the decorating is coming along.” She stood, then noted to Vilkas. “Please don’t let her cook. She’d blow my kitchen up.”

            “Your kitchen is safe with me.” Vilkas said with a nod. Lydia patted my back before leaving the house.

            I leaned against my palm again, watching Vilkas pour the batter into two circular pans. He walked them into the room under the staircase, which held an oven instead of an alchemy table, a small change Cassius had made a few months prior. He slid the pans in, then I watched as he walked back to the kitchen and began mixing things again. Vilkas lifted a different bag and held it toward me.

            “ _This_ is powdered sugar, Kara.” he said, one eyebrow raised.

            I rolled my eyes. “Looks exactly the same.” Vilkas laughed, scooping some out and adding it to a bowl. “What’s that for?”

            “Cakes need icing, don’t they?”

            I scoffed at his snarky remarks. “Give the man a spatula and all the power goes straight to his head.” I leaned toward him. “Maybe if you spent less time with a ladle and more time with a blade, you’d be able to match your brother in battle.”

            Vilkas snickered. “Easy there, little girl.”

            I sighed. “Is there really nothing I can do to help?”

            Vilkas glanced at me out of the corner of his eye. “You’re being a great help right now.”

            “I’m just sitting here.”

            “And that’s about as helpful as you can be in the kitchen. Just don’t touch anything, and that’s the biggest help in the world.”

            I dropped my head to the table, making very dramatic groaning sounds. I was so bored, I couldn’t even watch him cook anymore. Usually, I would find something to do with my brother, but since he was still out in Windhelm with Jarl Ulfric, he was missing the party and the cooking show.

            I lifted my head again. “I feel like I’m being unfair, though.” I said to Vilkas. “It’s your cake. You shouldn’t have to cook it.”

            Vilkas gave a sharp exhale in substitution for laughter. “It’s Farkas’ cake.”

            “It’s your birthday, too.”

            He shook his head. “I don’t celebrate my birthday.”

            I cocked my head to the side. “So you’ve told me, but you have yet to explain why.”

            He shrugged. “The only thing a birthday celebrates is another year you’ve managed not to die. Why should I celebrate having enough common sense not to get myself killed?”

            I stared at him for a while with a disgusted look on my face. “That’s the most morbid thing you’ve ever said. Why are you such a sour man?”

            “Someone has to be.” he said, adding berries to the frosting. I watched as it changes in color from white to a vibrant blue. “Birthdays are just an excuse to get drunk and eat sugar. You can do that any day without a hoard of people singing to you.”

            I stood from the table, walking around to Vilkas. “You’re such a grump.” I said as I wrapped my arms around his torso and pressed my face into his back. “Fine, if you don’t want to celebrate your birthday, I can’t make you. At least tell me what you want as a present, though.”

            Vilkas finished mixing and set the bowl down. He put his hands over my own, leaning back against me. “I don’t need a present.”

            I groaned, mashing my face into his back in utter defeat. “Nobody _needs_ a present, Vilkas. That’s why it’s called a present.” I let go of him, headed back to my spot.

            He grabbed my arm, dragging me back to him. He wrapped his arms around my shoulders and pulled me back against his chest. I rested my head against his shoulder.

            “Why are you so hell-bent on getting me a gift?” he asked, his face pressed into the top of my head.

            I rolled my eyes again. “Why are you psycho-analyzing me? Just let me get you a damned gift.” I groaned. “You’re so odd.”

            Vilkas laughed, then he took a deep breath. “You want to give me a gift?”

            “Yes.” I said, growing tired of the topic.

            “Hmm.” he said into my hair. “Marry me.”

            I snorted. “We already—”

            “On Loredas. Marry me on Loredas.”

            I felt my own heart flutter, almost going unnoticed over the sound of his heart pounding in his chest. I looked up at him, my brow furrowed but a smile on my face. “That’s in five days.”

            Vilkas shrugged. “You said you wanted to get me a gift. That’s what I want.”

            I grimaced at him. “Fine. I’ll marry you on Loredas.” He smiled down at me, giving me a quick kiss on the lips. “Happy birthday.”

            “Yes it is.” he agreed.

 

            The morning after the party, I lugged myself out of bed. I hadn’t had that much to drink, but I had eaten a copious amount of Vilkas’ cake. It was incredible, a vanilla sponge with blueberry frosting, and I couldn’t stop myself from eating three slices. That morning, though, my body reminded of what a terrible idea that had been.

            I groaned as I sat up, clutching my swirling stomach. I hadn’t had so much sugar in such a long time, and it wasn’t sitting well with me.

Sticking to the bare minimum, I ran a brush through my hair. I’d grown to really enjoy not having to spend several minutes combing it, let alone the time I saved when I washed it. I got dressed and left my room, eager to see if the others were in as much trouble as I was.

            I headed to Vilkas’ room first. His door was already cracked slightly, and I peeked inside. He was still asleep, snoring loudly from underneath his pillow. I still didn’t know why he slept like that, with his face buried under the pillow, but I noted how adorable it was and moved on.

            Farkas wasn’t in his room, but Torvar and Athis were. They were both passed out, slap-drunk, in the middle of Farkas’ floor. I had no idea why they were in there, but I could only assume they were stealing back the wine Farkas had previously stolen from their quarters.

            I walked down the hall toward the guest room, opening it just enough to be punched in the face with the smell of vomit. I wrinkled my nose, but poked my head in to see Lydia hunched over a bucket in the corner, heaving her brains out.

            “Gods, Lydia. How much did you drink?”

            She grunted at me. “I don’t know.” She squinted at me. “What time is it?”

            “Early.” I said to her, watching as she heaved again. “Do you need help?”

            Lydia waved her hand at me. “I’m fine, Karalissa. Thanks, though.”

            I nodded, closing the door behind me. I stepped across the hall to Aela’s room. Inside, she and Farkas were cuddled up together, fast asleep and far away. I shut the door, not wanting to investigate too far into it.

            I turned back to the hall, eager to head upstairs and put something that wasn’t sugar in my stomach. As I rounded the corner, I saw my brother coming down the hall.

            “There you are.” I said, a smirk on my face. “You missed one hell of a party.”

            He scowled at me. “Is my wife here?”

            I pointed over my shoulder. “She’s puking like crazy in the guest room.”

            Cassius pushed past me, headed toward Lydia. Right on cue, she rounded the corner, bucket in hand and headed for the exit.

            “You alright, Lyd?” my brother asked, putting a hand on the small of her back.

            She nodded. “Partied too hard, I guess.” She shrugged, passing him and headed home.

            I nudged my brother. “It really was fun. How was Windhelm?”

            He shrugged too, following behind Lydia. I trailed behind him, not too close. I could feel that he was irritated, but it seemed like it was directed at me.

            Up in the mead hall, I stopped him. Lydia kept going, wanting nothing but the comfort of her own bed, I assumed.

            “Are you mad at me or something?” He glared down at me, his jaw set and his fists clenched. “You are mad at me. What did I do?”

            He laughed, shaking his head at me. “So now you want to talk to me?”

            “What?” I asked, genuinely confused. “You’ve hardly been here.”

            “I’ve just been trying to stay out of your way, Karalissa. Since all you want to do is run off with Vilkas and have kids and let Farkas train them to be warriors. That reminds me, does he turn into a big dog too?” He turned back to the door, adding over his shoulder, “Don’t let me stand in your way. Woof woof.”

            I stared at him, my mouth agape as I watched him leave. It dawned on me then that he’d heard every word Vilkas and I exchanged at our camp in the fields of Skyrim so many nights ago. He was angry with me, about the beast, about Vilkas, about the secrets.

            And he had been going to Windhelm to avoid me.


	18. A New Dispute

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cassius is fed up with Karalissa keeping secrets from him, and Lydia is determined to make them work things out. 
> 
> POV: Cassius

            “Cassius!” my sister shouted behind me. I tried to ignore her, stomping away from Jorrvaskr and toward my own home. I wanted nothing to do with her. Nothing to do with whatever excuse she would come up with.

            Still, I spun around, challenging her to continue. “Leave me alone, Karalissa. You’ve done enough.”

            “What are you getting at?” she asked, but I just continued toward my house. I reached the door, and I fumbled with the lock. “Talk to me!”

            I got the door open, and I couldn’t suppress a laugh. I couldn’t look at her, but I spoke to her over my shoulder. “You know, for someone who insists that I’m the one who doesn’t like to talk, you sure seem to have a lot that you failed to mention.” I entered my house and slammed the door in her face.

            I was seething, smoke trailing from my lips as I crossed the room. On my way up the stairs, Lydia passed me. I tried to grab her, hold her to me for comfort, but she wiggled past me and went straight for the door.

            “What the hell are you doing, Lyd?”

            She opened the door, allowing Karalissa to come inside. “This needs to be aired out. I’m tired of you leaving all the time.” Karalissa stood in the corner near the door, ready to take whatever I had to dish out to her. Lydia continued, though. “You haven’t been doing any planning with Ulfric, have you?”

            My eyes darted between the two of them. I folded my arms across my chest. “No.”

            Lydia smiled. “Of course you haven’t. Because you’re avoiding Karalissa.”

            Karl looked furious. “Why are you avoiding me?”

            “Because you’re a liar, Karalissa!” I shouted back at her, my chest rumbling and vibrating the entire room. “I can’t stand to be around you right now.”

            “I’m not a liar!” she yelled, holding her arms up in utter confusion.

            “I told you everything, Karalissa! I told you all about my adventures away from you. The battles I saw, the people I met. I shared the woman I love with you, and you don’t even have the decency to mention that you’re a gods damned werewolf!”

            She blinked at me. “You’re mad at me because I didn’t tell you that I’m cursed with the blood of a beast? A beast that I hardly have any control over myself, let alone the ability to flaunt it about and bring it to supper whenever I want.”

            “I’m mad because you lied about your time at Jorrvaskr. Skjor turned you the night that he died, didn’t he? And you feel responsible because if you hadn’t let him, he wouldn’t have gone out that night.”

            Karalissa stood in front of my door with her mouth agape. Lydia gestured to her. “True, or not?”

            She looked between us, then closed her mouth. “True.”

            “And you didn’t tell me because…”

            She took a second to think about an answer. “I didn’t want you to think I was a monster.”

            “You are a monster, Karalissa! You’re a damned werewolf!” I shouted at her. “And I _eat dragons_. I kill people by shouting at them! Why would the idea that you can turn into a giant dog bother me?”

            “On the topic of shouting, tone it down a notch, Cass. That’s worrisome.” she noted, pointing to the trail of smoke slithering out of my throat with each word I spat at my sister.

            Karalissa shook her head. “I’m sorry, Cass, I just didn’t—”

            “Oh, I’m not done.” I interrupted. “I could very easily forgive that, because I understand. I didn’t tell Ma that I’m the Dragonborn because I didn’t want to answer all of the questions. I didn’t want her to look at me like I’m the savior of Skyrim, the way everybody else does.” I took a breath. “What I can’t forgive is that you didn’t tell me about Vilkas.”

            “Vilkas? What are you—”

            “How could you not tell me that you’re getting married, Karl?” I lowered myself to sit on the stairs, feeling utterly defeated. “Do you know how much that hurts me? I’m your brother!”

            “Cassius, I can explain…”

            “Please do, because I really don’t understand.”

            Karalissa shifted from foot to foot. “It doesn’t seem like you like him very much, Cass.”

            I blinked at her, absolutely dumbfounded. “You’re joking, right?” When she shook her head, I laughed. I stood and continued up the stairs, headed for my room. “Wow.”

            “We’re not done with this, Cass.” I heard my wife call from the base of the stairs.

            From the hallways, I shouted back. “No, I am done, Lyd. I _never_ would have kept something like that from her.”

            Karalissa groaned. “I was going to tell you, Cass! I wanted to tell you right after we decided to get married, at dinner with Ma in Solitude. Right before the Gourmet caused a riot in the street.”

            I laughed again. “And you never had another opportunity?”

            “It’s hard to find a spare moment of your time, Cassius. You’re so involved in this Civil War, you don’t hear anything unless the sentence starts with ‘Ulfric Stormcloak’.”

            I walked back down the stairs, looking between both of the women standing in my living room. “I’m not that difficult to talk to, am I?”

            Lydia sighed. “I am not saying Karalissa was right, because she definitely was not. But you are difficult to talk to when you’re involved in another matter that you’re passionate about.”

            I shook my head. “Karl, do you really think I’m cold and unfeeling? That I wouldn’t care that my little sister is getting married?”

            “No, Cass. I don’t think that.” Karalissa said. “But what you don’t understand is that I already know what you’re feeling.”

            I blinked at her. “I don’t understand.”

            She sat in of the chairs at the table in the corner. “Cassius, the beast blood gives us other abilities, too. Other than just the transformations. Aela can sense heat and track footprints that never existed, Vilkas can put thoughts in your head. I can feel others’ emotions. Everyone’s. The difference is they choose when to use their abilities, and I can’t. It never stops.”

            “I don’t follow.”

            “Every time you see me with him, you feel disgusted and uncomfortable. Not because I’m with Vilkas, but because I’m with _someone_. The idea of me being in love and getting married literally makes your stomach turn, and I don’t know why. So why would I tell you, if you can’t even stand to look at us?”

            I felt a twinge of guilt in my stomach. Karalissa pointed. “And now you feel guilty because you didn’t know I could tell.”

            As she spoke, I was shocked. She snorted. “And now you’re surprised because I’m not making this up.”

            I was growing irritated that she was feeling my own emotions before I could voice them. She raised her arms in confusion. “And now you’re angry. Why are you angry?”

            I scowled at her. “Karalissa, stop doing that. It’s creepy.” She shrugged. “I don’t know, Karl. It’s not that I don’t like him, because I do. He’s a good man. It’s just the idea of you being old enough to _get_ married that makes me uncomfortable. When I look at you, I don’t see the Harbinger of the Companions or Vilkas’ wife or even a warrior. I see my little sister, who had to sit on a stack of books at the supper table until she was eleven because she couldn’t reach anything. I see the little sister who picked me flowers every day when I had the flu. I see the little sister who was so embarrassed at the Bard’s College that I had to make a scene to divert the attention from her. And I see the little sister who cried and cried after we left home, even though she thought I couldn’t hear it.”

            Karalissa sighed. “Well, I didn’t know that.”

            “And it’s because I don’t talk.” I took a breath, walking to sit in the chair beside her. “I’m sorry I made you feel like you couldn’t talk to me.”

            “And I’m sorry I didn’t tell you about the beast. Or Vilkas.”

            I put my hand on her shoulder. “Karl, if you love him, I love him.”

            She smiled. “I do. I love him.”

            I groaned. “Ugh, that’s so gross.” Lydia laughed from across the room, where she leaned against our bookcase. “So when’s the wedding? Lyd and I want to be there.”

            Karalissa shrunk into her seat. “Well, we’ve been putting it off for a while now, but Vilkas wants to get married this weekend.”

            “That’s soon.” I said to her, a scowl on my face.

            She shrugged. “I know, but it’s what he asked for, you know. For his birthday.”

            “Awww.” Lydia cooed from her bookcase.

            I held my hand up at my wife. “Don’t “aww’ that. It’s gross. Why is he so nice?” My sister shrugged. “Alright. This weekend, then.”

            Karalissa smiled, leaning forward in her seat to hug me. “I promise I’ll never keep secrets from you again.”

            “Good.” I mumbled, winking at Lydia from where I sat. She smiled back, a knowing smile, because we had a little secret of our own. For that matter, I had my own secret. But now was not the time.

            Soon enough, I could promise my sister the same.


	19. A New Dawn

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A month has passed, and the group has gathered at Cassius' home to spend some time together before Cassius, Lydia, and Vilkas return to Jarl Ulfric's side.
> 
> POV: Vilkas

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello all!  
> Sorry about the wait on these upcoming chapters. I've been so busy that any free time I have is spent asleep.
> 
> I hope you enjoy these next few chapters as much as I do. Back to the war!  
> As always, thank you for reading and providing feedback.

            In the month that past since my wedding, things had returned to normal. Well, as normal as they could be with the lot of us, because we were pretty abnormal. We were all closer than ever, though, the six of us. The drama that erupted and yanked Kara and Farkas away from us and the anger than ensued after; now that it was long past over, we all spent every moment we had with each other. Days training with the whelps, afternoons around the large table covered in Tilma’s cooking, evenings spent in each other’s company.

            That night, in particular, we’d all gone to Cassius’ home to play cards again. Just as we had the first time, only four of us were participating in the actual game. Farkas was determined to learn how to play because Aela really loved it. He was sitting beside me, looking over my shoulder at my cards and watching as I picked up and discarded, trying to grasp the concept of the game.

            Kara, as usual, was bored within minutes of starting. She had opted to sit at the table near the door and do paperwork. She had been trying to recruit a few more people to join the Companions, and she had to do all of the paperwork behind that in addition to actually looking over the possible candidates. She was sitting, one leg in the chair and one hanging out, hunched over the table and writing vigorously.

            Back at our own table, Aela was winning, as usual. The order was a little different this time, though, because I was more focused on teaching Farkas than I was actually playing. Lydia was close behind Aela, and as Cassius set down another set of four, he was inching even closer.

            He discarded and it was my turn again. I held my hand up to Farkas, and he looked around at the sets already on the table. Then, he looked at the discard pile and shook his head. I drew a new card. He stared at the seven, then realized we could play off of Aela’s set of sevens.

            “Set it down.” he instructed, then pointed to a five in my hand. “Discard.”

            I discarded the five, as instructed, and waiting for Aela to play. “You’re getting good at this.” I said to my brother, who smiled and nodded.

            Aela snickered. “Not good enough, I’m afraid.” She picked up the five and placed it with two other fives from her hand. She discarded the only card she had left, ending the game. Cassius tossed his cards on the table, dropping his head in utter defeat.

            “I was so close!” he grumbled from the tabletop. Lydia scratched his back while she laughed as his reaction, but bumped fists with Aela across the table. As Cassius lifted his head, Lydia gathered the cards and shuffled them again.

            Farkas nodded. “Deal me in. I’m ready.”

            We all cheered. “That’s the spirit!” Cassius said to him, patting his back. He turned to the table in the corner. “Karl, are you sure you don’t want in? It’s gonna be a good round.”

            Kara shook her head. “Lot of paperwork to—”

            Cassius groaned. “Karalissa, we’re leaving for almost a week after this. Are you _sure_ you don’t want to play cards?”

            Kara looked over at us, her eyes bouncing from person to person. She thought for a moment, looking down at her papers. “Alright, fine. Deal me in too.”

            The table cheered, having more people to play with. Not because it would be more fun, but because it would be more difficult for Aela to win with more hands holding the cards she needed. Kara sunk down into the seat across from me, next to her brother. He wrapped his arm around her shoulder, nearly crushing her in his large bicep.

            “Alright, we’re playing for it all.” He added a few more coins to the pile in the middle. “This is the last game. No one take it easy on Aela. I want some gold to spend down in Riften.”

            Aela rolled her eyes. “I don’t need anyone to ‘take it easy’ on me, Cass. Good luck, because I want some new boots.”

            Lydia laughed. “How many pairs of boots do you need?”

            Aela shrugged. “I didn’t say they were for me. They’re for Lissa.”

            Kara looked confused as she organized her cards. “I don’t need new boots.”

            Aela peered under the table at Kara’s shoes. They were pretty old, the same pair that we’d replaced after she lost them in our shared transformation, nearly a year ago. Aela raised an eyebrow at Kara. “Trust me, you do.”

            Kara just shrugged. “Who’s starting?”

            Cassius grunted. “Vil can start.”

            I nodded, picking up a new card and adding a four of diamonds to the discard pile. It was Farkas’ turn after that, and as the cycle made its way around the table, I thought about what Cassius had said.

We were leaving the next day. Since things had settled here in Whiterun, Cassius and Lydia and I were headed back to Jarl Ulfric’s side in battle. This time, the Rift was being taken, a cause I had absolutely no difficulty getting behind. Since the Rift housed the fort where Farkas and Kara were taken, I was more than willing to go in and wipe the place of Imperials.

            Cassius was excited. He had apparently not been going to Windhelm to plan with Ulfric last month, and though he neglected to tell any of us where he actually had been, he was excited to get back to the Jarl’s palace and fight.

            Lydia was excited too, now that she could get away from Whiterun. She liked Whiterun, of course, but being in one place for too long usually made her feel too tied down. She and Cassius had traveled all over Skyrim after they married, looking for Kara and adventure, and Lydia likely missed it. In addition, she’d been itching to battle for a while. The woman truly was a warrior, and if kept from the fight too long, she grew restless.

            I was pretty eager to go too, I couldn’t deny that. It had been a month and a half since the battle for Whiterun, and that fight had been so exhilarating, I was ready to experience it again. This task would be a bit more difficult, of course, because we weren’t as familiar with Riften as we were with Whiterun. Where there’s more difficulty, however, there’s more of a challenge, and I never shy away from a challenge.

            Kara picked up a card, then discarded. She didn’t seem like she knew exactly what she was doing, but she did a pretty good job pretending she understood the game. I nudged her under the table, giving her a wink when she looked up. She smiled sheepishly, confirming that she really didn’t know what she was doing.

            Aela snickered as her turn rolled around, and she picked up from the card I had discarded. We all watched, mouths ajar, as Aela set down two sets of four and discarded her final card, ending the game on her first turn. We were all silent for a moment as she slid her winnings toward her, filling the satchel on her hip with the gold.

            Cassius stood first, pushing away from the table and walking to the stairs. “Good game, all. I vote next game night, we play something that might be a little more difficult for Aela to win.” He looked over his shoulder as he put his foot on the first step. “Maybe water aerobics.”

            Aela laughed. “I’m not saying I’d win, but water isn’t a deterrent to me.”

            Cassius glared at her. “Not if you’re tracking. Oh! Maybe we’ll play hide and seek near a river.” The whole table laughed.

            Aela raised an eyebrow. “Better find a river that’s not deep enough for me to drown you in, Cass.” The room erupted in laughter again, and Cassius shook his head with a huge grin on his face.

            “I’ll see you in the morning, Vil.” he said to me. I raised my hand, bidding him a good night as he ascended the stairs.

            After that, we had all headed home to Jorrvaskr once we helped Lydia tidy up a little, Aela’s pocket clinking the whole way.

 

            The next morning, as I finished packing my things, I thought about our itinerary for the week. We had to travel to Windhelm to speak with Jarl Ulfric, then travel with Galmar to the Stormcloak camp in the Rift. After a few days of planning, we would assemble the troops and march on the city. With all of the travel time, planning time, and waiting time, the actual battle had better be exhilarating.

            Two arms wrapping around my torso interrupted my thoughts. Kara pressed her face into my back, squeezing me rather forcefully. I lifted my arm, and she slipped under it to face me, and she leaned forward to rest her forehead against my chin.

            “Do you have to leave?”

            I smiled a little, wrapping my arms around her. “Yes, pup. I have to leave.”

            She groaned. “You don’t _have_ to.”

            “But I do. What would your brother say if I just decided not to go?”

            Kara sighed. “I know. He’d probably roast you alive.” She stepped away from me, turning to the dresser to finish folding my clothes. She picked up the Stormcloak cuirass, holding it up to my neck to imagine what it looked like on me. “This is new.”

            I shrugged. “Cassius suggested it. To protect our identities, he said. Not many men out there in wolf armor.”

            Kara closed one eye, cocking her head to the side as she peered at the armor. After a few moments, she folded it and added it to the bag. “Blue is not your color.”

            I snorted. “I know. It’s Ulfric’s.” I said with a smirk.

            Kara raised her eyebrow at me, daring me to make another snarky remark. She finished folding my things, then turned back to me. She reached up to the chain around my neck that held my wedding ring, adjusting it so the clasp was in the back.

            I used my finger tip to pull at the chain around her neck, holding the matching ring. I ran my finger over the smooth silver, smiling as I remembered our reasoning for the necklaces. It wasn’t until we actually tried to put them on that we realized how difficult rings were for us. I was always wearing gloves, making rings near impossible, and Kara’s fingers were so nubby it was more than likely the ring would slip off and be lost. The necklaces, however, were proving to be useful.

            Kara looked up at me, her brown eyes full of worry. “You’re coming back, right?”

            I felt my brow furrow. “Of course I’m coming back.” She nodded, but she didn’t seem reassured. I put my hand on her cheek, running my thumb over her dark scar. “I am.”

            She nodded again. “Promise me you won’t die.”

            “I promise.” I said, kissing her forehead. “And promise me you’ll be safe. I’m begging you, Kara, don’t get kidnapped again.”

            “Rats. You ruined my plans for the Middas, Vilkas.” She smirked at me. “I won’t get kidnapped. I’ll stay here and do paperwork, maybe do some recruiting with your brother.”

            “Good.” I said to her, closing my pack and tossing it over my shoulder. “I’ve got to go meet your brother.”

            “Okay.” she said. I wrapped my arm around her waist, pulling her in for a long kiss. As we separated, she smiled at me. “I love you.”

            “And I love you, pup.”


	20. A New Day

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cassius, Lydia, and Vilkas travel to the Palace of Kings to pick up Galmar, and essential part of their next advance in the war. Security in Windhelm has made some advances of their own (Security in Whiterun is terrible).
> 
> POV: Cassius

            Lydia and Vilkas followed behind me as we approached the Palace of Kings, talking to each other quietly. We began climbing the steps, and we soon realized that security had changed an incredible amount in the time we’d been away. As we reached the top step, more guards approached than I could count on one hand.

            I was glad we’d come ‘in costume’, as Lydia called it. Mine was simply a helmet that had become the ‘Dragonborn’ symbol across the country. Though it was rather charred from dragon breath and smelled like booze and death, it fit comfortably over the top half of my face. Lyd’s costume wasn’t any sort of apparel, just a stern look and stiff shoulders. Vil…well, he was still in his wolf armor, but I could make something up.

            The guards rushed toward us pretty quickly, hand on weapons that were strapped to their hips. One stepped ahead of the bunch. “Hold there, citizen.”

            I raised my hands in innocent defense, a sly smirk on my face. “Woah, woah, boys. ‘Citizen’?” I used my obnoxious Dragonborn voice that Lydia hated.

            The guards relaxed. “Apologies, Dragonborn. The Jarl has ordered for security to be doubled, with the war advances. Worried some Imperials might get funny ideas and attack in the night.” Honestly, I had no idea which one was talking under the ugly-ass helmets. I just laughed as loud as I could and nodded to all of them.

            A different voice spoke in the bunch. “Inform the Jarl that the Dragonborn, his housecarl, and…” I couldn’t tell for sure, but I was pretty sure they meant Vil.

            I put my arm around Vilkas’ shoulder. “Steward, bodyguard, gothlord, brother. He’s a man of many titles.”

            “Right.” the same voice responded. “The Dragonborn, his housecarl, and the man of many titles are here to see him.”

            Another guard nodded and headed to the doors. After a few moments, he returned and invited us into the Palace of Kings. I patted the guard on the back as we passed him.

            We all entered the long main room, walking casually toward the empty throne. I looked around for Ulfric, but he wasn’t in his planning room either. I shook my head to Lyd and Vil, who just shrugged.

            “He must be upstairs.” I said, hopping up the steps to his throne and plopping into the Jarl’s seat. I tossed my legs over the arm of the chair, leaning against the other in a grand display of arrogance.

            Lydia crossed her arms. “Cass, get down from there. That’s so disrespectful.”

            I laughed, taking my helmet off and tossing it to Vil, who caught it with one hand. “Please, it’s just a chair.”

            “It’s the Jarl’s chair.” Lydia countered.

            I shrugged, closing my eyes and relaxing entirely. “Ah, this is nice.” I opened one eye to glance at my wife. “You know, I could totally be a Jarl.”

            Vilkas laughed. “You’re joking, right?”

            I scowled at him. “Afraid not, brother. I could rule a city.”

            “You couldn’t rule a city.” Lydia said, her eyebrow raised. “You still can’t even get that girl in Markarth to say two words to you.”

            “Shut up, Lyd. I’ll bet you forty septims if I went to Markarth right now, the broad would talk to me.”

            My wife lowered her brow, my favorite mischievous grin appearing on her face. “You’ve got yourself a bet, Dovahkiin.”

            At the name, I smiled. I was so used to being called ‘Dragonborn’ by the people of Skyrim, it was a nice reminder that there was so much more to the word than just the fame and glory. I sighed. “You know what, I miss Paarthurnax. Let’s visit High Hrothgar.”

            “High Hrothgar.” a familiar deep voice bellowed from the planning room. “Now that’s a place I haven’t been in a while.” I bolted upright and jumped down from the throne, falling into line with my companions.

            As they emerged, Galmar spoke from behind Ulfric. “Oh, yes. Haven’t been there since the Dragonborn lost us the Rift during our little ‘discussion’ with Tulius.”

            I grinned, taking my helmet back from Vil and tucking it under my right arm. “Well, we’ll be taking it back in a few days, my Jarl. I hope that can make up for it.”

            Ulfric laughed as he took his seat in his throne, slouching into a comfortable position. Galmar stood nearby, his arms crossed and his eyes shadowed by his little bear hat.

            “I remember that day fondly.” the Jarl said, resting his head against a closed fist. “Maybe after this war ends, we can start another to bring that Thalmor bitch off of her high horse.”

            I snickered. “I’d enjoy that, honestly. She has such a stick up her ass.”

            Galmar raised an eyebrow. “Pull it out and stab her in the chest with it.” The three of us laughed as Lydia and Vilkas exchanged a look. Vil had no idea what we were talking about, but Lydia was just indifferent to the exchange of words happening around her.

            Ulfric sighed as our moment of comedy came to a close. “So, I assume you’ve come to take my housecarl from me.”

            Lydia nodded. “We have, my Jarl. Our wagon is at the stables, waiting to head to Riften.”

            Ulfric nodded. “I’m glad things are playing out like this. Whiterun was a turning point for us. Now that we’ve been laying low, however, they’re expecting an attack.” He turned to Galmar. “Take the Rift back for me, friend. I’ll notify Laila Law-Giver, now that things are truly in action. Let her know her seat is available again.”

            Galmar grunted. “Dealing with Maven Black-Briar will be an interesting task. The woman is so full of herself. It makes my skin crawl.”

            I nodded toward Lydia. “Let my wife deal with her. She has a firm distaste for pig-headed women.”

            “Pig-headed _people_ , Cass.” Lyd said from behind me. “I don’t discriminate.”

            Ulfric laughed. “Good.” He turned to Galmar, who was clearly ready to go. “Safe travels, friend. Try to return in one piece.”

            Galmar nodded, looking at Ulfric a little too long for my taste. “I will, my Jarl. I’ll bring the Rift back to you.”

            We said our farewells, and just as quickly as we arrived, we were gone again. Our destination was Riften, a city to take and a war to win. 


	21. New Addition

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cassius, Lydia, Vilkas, and Galmar travel to the Rift, and Galmar spends his time reflecting.
> 
> POV: Galmar Stone-Fist

            The wagon shook beneath us as the driver hit a bump in the road. It tossed the lot of us around, threatening to toss Vilkas out of the wagon. He caught himself, though, and he adjusted in his seat as Cassius laughed at him. Lydia just shook her head, not wanting to participate in the comedic elements of Vilkas’ nearly tragic fall. By tragic, of course, I mean tragically hilarious.

            We had transitioned from the cold of Eastmarch to the scorching heat of the Rift in the few hours we’d spent in the wagon. I was sweating buckets beneath my furs, but I refused to say anything about it. I just leaned back, my arms folded across my chest, and grit my teeth until we arrived to the camp.

            Deciding I needed something to distract me from the sweat pooling under my beard, I struck up a conversation. I turned to Cassius. “Dragonborn, explain this dynamic to me.”

            He looked at me, a confused look souring his face. “What dynamic?”

            I waved my finger in a circle, at some point pointing at each of my fellow passengers. “This dynamic. How are you all connected?”

            Cassius blinked once before he understood. “Oh!” he exclaimed in realization, and I rolled my eyes. “The dynamic trio, you mean. Well, I can explain that for sure. See, it’s a long and twisted tale of tragedy and loss—”

            “Spare me the bravado, Dragonborn. Just answer the question.”

            Cassius grimaced. “Lydia is my wife. Vilkas is my sister’s husband.”

            See, that’s all I needed. I nodded. “And your sister? Where is she?”

            Vilkas spoke. “She’s in Whiterun.”

            “Ah, that’s right. Harbinger of the Companions.” I said, nodding to Vilkas. I was beginning to like him more than Cassius, if I have to be completely honest. He was very straight-to-the-point, while the Dragonborn felt the need to regale us with his many tales of slaying dragons to answer how long the wagon ride would be.

            “Yes.” Vilkas added, nodding to me. “She and my brother are doing some recruiting this week.”

            I laughed to myself. “Well, we may be able to help her in that aspect once the war is over. We have a lot of good men, but not a lot of work for them. I’m sure a fair amount would love to do work for your wife.” I thought of Ralof, one of our top officers, who actually reminded me a lot of Vilkas. They had a lot in common, and in my mind they even sounded the same.

            “Kara would like that.” Vilkas added, not needing to say anything else.

            Things were quiet after that, all of us alone with our own thoughts. I looked over at Cassius, who had slipped his arm over his wife’s shoulder.

            Seeing him brought back a lot of memories, especially with Ralof on my mind. Even though Ulfric loved the Dragonborn, I couldn’t stand him. He was just pompous and self-loving and narcissistic. Cassius never seemed to do anything that didn’t directly benefit himself.

            And still, I knew it wasn’t true. Not after that day at Helgen. Not after what he did for Ulfric.

            I thought about that day often, and could easily deem it the worst day of my life. The day Ulfric decided that _he_ wanted to rile the troops, lead them into battle. I had told him it was a bad idea. I had told him it was dangerous. I had told him that the moment an Imperial caught sight of him, he would be taken, along with his entire army.

            As smart as the man was, he never listened to me. And if he had, maybe we wouldn’t be this far behind in our war, because what I told him was exactly what happened. He took his troops to Darkwater Pass and waited for my arrival. I was only an hour out, an hour away, and still, an hour too late.

            I remembered approaching the camp and knowing immediately that something was wrong. The smoke, the trash, the bodies that cluttered the ground. I had a few men with me, but not nearly enough to fight off the amount of Imperials that cluttered the camp. We had waited in the shrubbery nearby, sitting steady until one lonesome Imperial wandered off for a piss.

            I had grabbed the man by the throat, covering his mouth so he couldn’t cry for help. Blade pressed against the nape of his neck, I had demanded answers.

            _“Tell me where the Jarl is.”_

            He has shaken his head, his eyes frantic. _“I don’t know.”_

            I was shaking, absolute anger radiating through my bones. _“Tell me where Jarl Ulfric is, you Imperial piece of shit, unless you want to die in the bushes like a rat.”_

            Though he provided the information, I’d killed him anyway. Left him in the bushes like a rat. We had bolted to Helgen, as fast as we could manage. Still, we were too late.

            I still had nightmares about the sight of the place. The fire, the bodies, the chopping block. It was the most horrific thing I’d ever seen. On top of it all, a young girl was in the litter of death, searching bodies for a face of some loved one, no doubt. The sight of her crying, the defeat on my men’s faces, it drove me into a frenzy.

            I had tossed everybody, searched every corpse, and checked every severed head. Still, none of the bodies had any resemblance to Ulfric. I remember searching houses, stores, burned buildings, even the watch tower, and there wasn’t a trace of him. The voice in the back of my head told me he was fine. He had to be. But being a man who needs to see something to believe it, the guilt and heartbreak that washed over me far surpassed any shred of hope I had.

            I had traveled back to Windhelm, head and heart in my dirty hands. I’d never felt so defeated in my entire life before that day. As I approached the palace, I didn’t greet the guards or speak to anyone. I’d simply crawled into my bed and let the sorrow roll around in my stomach.

            A few days had passed, and I had actually begun to compose plans to continue with the war. It was what Ulfric would have wanted, and honestly, I wanted every Imperial alive dead. I wanted everyone who even had a miniscule tie to Cyrodiil dead. I wanted everyone who’d even looked at an Imperial before dead.

            And then, that fateful morning arrived, as did the rugged and dirty men in nothing but rags. I recognized Ralof immediately, and strode toward him and the man I’d never seen before. Once I realized that the third man in their party, the one that fell behind the other two, was Ulfric, I had run to them.

            Pushing past the two men in front, unable to control myself, I’d thrown my arms around the Jarl and held him as close as I could. Realizing shortly after that it was out of line to behave as such, I had straightened up.

            _“My Jarl.”_ I had said. _“We went to Helgen. We thought you to be dead.”_

            He had smiled at me _. “I thought myself to be dead, Galmar. I was saved by these two men. We escaped through Helgen Keep, then traveled low through Skyrim’s fields to escort me here.”_

            I had patted Ralof’s back, proud of the young man. Then, I had turned to the other man, who wore a face I’d never seen before. _“And who are you?”_ I’d asked, my hand extended.

            He had shaken my hand. _“Cassius. Cassius Felstead.”_

            _“I cannot thank you enough.”_ I had said, watching the Jarl absorb the scene. Cassius had left after that, not accepting any amount of coin or offer to stay the night we had extended to him. He had said he needed to go back, that he had a girl to return to.

            I had spent the remainder of the day wide awake, watching over the Jarl as he slept. I knew he was safe in our palace, but something about the idea of his head on a chopping block still sends shivers down my spine and tells me to watch him like a hawk.

            He had woken a few hours later, ready to regale me with his tale of his journey to Eastmarch, his journey home. I clung to every word he spoke, waiting with baited breath for him to speak again.

            And just like that, everything we’d ever been through didn’t matter. Not our years training as Imperial soldiers. Not our years of tragedy in the Great War. Not the year I spent searching for him, only to find him being held prisoner of war and tortured by the Thalmor bitch herself. Not the year his father died and he was seated as the Jarl. Not the years after the Legion, the years planning a rebellion, the years actually rebelling.

            The only thing that mattered to me was that he was here with me now, that he was always in my reach. And in that moment, I realized that I wanted nothing in my life but his safety, his happiness, his love. I would do anything to have them. And if it meant taking a country for him, for the love of Talos, I would do it.

            “Galmar?”

            The voice interrupted my thoughts. I turned to Vilkas, who was watching me expectantly.

            “Sorry, Vilkas. What did you ask?”

            He smiled crookedly. “I asked if you had any family.”

            I nodded to him. “Only Jarl Ulfric.” And with that, I had turned my head away from the group, waiting for this trip to be over so I could go home.


	22. A New Recruit

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After a day spent with each other, Karalissa and Farkas meet a potential new Companion. Does the kid have what it takes?
> 
> POV: Farkas

            “Let me join the Companions!” a little voice said from behind us. Lissa and I turned as we passed the big tree in the courtyard. Lars Battle-Born was following behind us.

            Lissa smiled at him. “You’re a little young, kid. Besides, I don’t think your parents would like that very much.”

            “Ah, come on.” Lars said. “I need someone to teach me to fight. Someone’s been…picking on me. I asked Jon to help, but he won’t.”

            We were almost at the steps to Jorrvaskr. Lissa sighed. “Get a written permission slip, and I’ll let you join.”

            Lars groaned and stomped his foot. “They won’t do that! Come on, can’t you just—”

            I turned to him, puffing my chest out to look scary. “No Companions.”

            Lars stared at me with wide eyes. “Okay. No Companions.”

            I nodded. “Now get out of here, you little weenie.” Lars dashed off toward the shops.

            I turned back to Lissa, who was staring up at me like I was crazy. After a moment, we both started cackling with laughter.

            “A little weenie?” Lissa gasped, out of breath from laughing so hard. “He’s just a kid, Farkas.”

            I shrugged. “He may be a kid, but he’s still a weenie. He lets that little girl pick on him. Be a man.”

            Lissa shook her head, climbing the steps again. I followed behind her. As we walked through the door, I asked her, “What do you think they’re doing right now?”

            Lissa looked over her shoulder at me. “Who? Our brothers?”

            “Yeah.”

            She shrugged. “They’re probably riding in a wagon right now. Or they’re at the camp.” She smiled at me, a little crooked. “I’m waiting until Middas to worry.”

            “Okay.” I said to her. “We’ll worry together on Middas.” I patted her on the back. I knew she was worried about Vilkas, so I kept making it seem like I was the only one worried. It made her feel better.

            We walked all the way down to the living area, then to Lissa’s study. I dumped out the big bag of books we’d just bought from Belethor’s store. We finished reading all of the books Lissa had, and we needed some new stories.

            Lissa cleared a shelf for new books. “How do you want to organize them?”

            I thought for a moment. “By color.” That’s what Aela liked to do, organize by color. She was out hunting with Ria today, so I had all day to spend with Lissa.

            “Alright, which color—” Lissa didn’t finish her question because I’d already started stacking them, brown books first. I was working my way into red. “We’ll start with brown, then.” Lissa said with a big smile.

            We organized for a few minutes, making small talk about which book to read first. Almost ten minutes later, there was a knock at the door. Lissa and I looked at each other and just set the rest of the book on the shelf. She sat down to try to look professional.

            “Come in.” Lissa said, gathering some papers to look like she was busy. She did that a lot, to try to look like she had work to do. She usually did, but today she didn’t want to work. I leaned against the wall near her.

            The door opened, and a boy I’d never seen before came in. He was a short, sort of scrawny, Imperial with short brown hair and bright green eyes. He looked so awkward and gangly. Like a noodle. I had no idea what he could possibly want. Lissa and I both stared at him, waiting for him to speak.

            He cleared his throat, folding his hands behind his back. “I’m looking for the Harbinger. Torvar said to ask for Karalissa, and that she would be here.” He had a funny accent. Didn't sound like anything I'd heard before.

            Lissa nodded. “I’m Karalissa. What can I help you with?”

            He shifted his weight from foot to foot. “Well, I’d like to join the Companions.”

            I couldn’t stop myself from laughing a little. He looked embarrassed, and I felt bad. Lissa shot me a look, and I got it together. She turned back to the boy. “A lot of young men want to join the Companions today, it seems.” She looked him over. “You don’t look like a warrior. How are you in battle?”

            He looked back and forth between us. “Well, I could use some training, but I’m decent with a sword.” He was excited suddenly. “I can prove my worth.”

            Lissa nodded, a grimace on her face. “Do you have a name? And an age for that matter?”

            “Codus.” the boy said. “I’m twenty.” Lissa looked over at me. That was only a year younger than her. That made me think: when was Lissa’s birthday? Why didn’t I know? I felt like a bad friend all of a sudden.

            “Alright, Codus. Why do you want to join the Companions?” Lissa asked him.

            Codus was thoughtful for a moment. Then, he looked up at us. “I don’t really have anywhere else to go.”

            I could tell Lissa wanted to ask, and she wanted to wrap her arms around him and give him a big hug. But she didn’t. She only nodded. “Our Master at Arms is currently away. He’ll be back by Fridas, at the latest.” She gestured to me. “This is Farkas. He’ll test your arm.”

            Codus looked scared of me. “Test…like a fight?”

            Lissa nodded. “Yes. A fight. We’ll go to the courtyard.” Codus still looked worried because I was the size of three of him put together. “You said you could prove your worth, and that’s what I need to see.”

            The Imperial straightened up, trying to seem tough. “Alright. I’m ready.”

            “Good.” I said, headed toward the door. I patted his back on our way to the courtyard. Lissa followed behind us.

            Out in the training yard, the whelps had gathered to watch. Torvar probably told all of them that a newcomer was here. Codus looked embarrassed as he and I stepped out into the open.

            I pulled my broadsword from my back. “Just swing at me a few times. The Harbinger wants to see how you attack.” He still looked scared. “I won’t swing back. I’m just supposed to watch.”

            Codus relaxed at that, and pulled an old steel sword off of his hip. He readied to fight, waited for me to tell him I was ready, then started to swing. He sort of wobbled, but the kid had an arm. He swung hard, and I noticed that with every blow he hit the same spot.

            After a moment, I put my sword away. I called over to Lissa, who was leaning against the post next to Njada. “His form is there. Accurate. Strong. Needs to work on his stance and confidence.”

            Lissa nodded, and we walked back to her. She looked down at us from the top step. “You might do well. But for now, you’re a whelp. Talk to your fellow Companions for work.” She pointed to Torvar. “Torvar will explain things to you.”

            Codus smiled. “Thank you, Harbinger.” He walked to Torvar, who patted him on the back and showed him inside to the whelp quarters.

            Njada nudged Lissa. She had a small smile on her face. “You really think he’ll do well? He looks like a strong breeze would blow him over.” Njada had been relatively nice since the fight, especially to Lissa. I think she felt bad, but she still hadn’t apologized.

            Lissa smiled. “That may be so. Sometimes the famous come to us, and sometimes men and women come to seek their fame.” She put her hand on Njada’s shoulder, looking up at me. “It’s not our business. What matters is their heart.”

            I had no idea what she was talking about, but it sounded important, so I nodded. So did Njada. “I agree, Harbinger. Maybe we should get him a new sword, though. That one is looking pretty old.”

            Lissa smirked, then pointed to the Skyforge. “Why don’t you go talk to Eorland about that?”

            Njada smiled. “Okay.” She left then, and Athis followed behind her.

            I leaned against the table near Lissa. “He reminds me of you.”

            She nodded, her eyes sparkling. “He reminds me of me too.” She looked back up at the sky. “We’ll have Vilkas test him too. Then he can train with Torvar. We’re too soft, and he needs to be pushed.”

            I nodded. “We are too soft.” I sighed, looking up at whatever Lissa was looking at. “But that’s okay, right?”

            “Yes, Farkas.” Lissa said. “It’s okay.”

            “Okay.” I looked at her again. “Lissa, when is your birthday?”

            She looked back at me. “Why do you ask?”

            “I never have.”

            She smirked at me. “Fourth of Second Seed.”

            “That’s soon.” I said to her. “Why didn’t you say anything?”

            Lissa just grinned crookedly. “I don’t know. I guess I forgot.”

            I smiled too. “Well, I won’t forget.”

            Lissa was confused for a second, but then she really smiled. “Okay, Farkas.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, guys!!
> 
> As always, thank you for reading! Feel free to take a moment to lol at me trying to plan the rest of this story out. I literally sat down with my editor and argued with about what to do with the Companions hahaha. Honestly, though, I just needed to lighten the mood after Galmar's dark inner monologue. Farkas is easily one of my favorite characters and it's so easy to write from the perspective of that big, blue-eyed baby.
> 
> Things are really picking up now that the darker elements of the story have passed. We're nearing the end. Less than ten more chapters are pending.
> 
> Get ready for some serious secret reveals!!
> 
> -haunter_ielle


	23. Moments in Battle

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Stormcloaks march on the Rift.
> 
> POV: Vilkas

            Lydia had been nauseous the whole trip. Once we finally arrived at the Stormcloak camp, she had heaved her entire lunch. Cassius had insisted that she rest, but she wouldn’t hear it. She wanted to fight.

            That was the day before, though, and this day was the day we’d been waiting for. The battle had come at last, and Lydia wasn’t about to miss it.

            The three of us stood before Galmar, who seemed more determined than ever to fight. Something in the wagon, a memory or a thought, had disturbed him. Now, he wanted blood, and it was ever evident on his pale face and sweaty brow.

            “This is it, men!” he cried, earning cheers from all around us. “They say that our cause is false and that we are nothing more than thieves, thugs, and murderers. But no! We are farmers! We are craftsmen! We are sons and daughters of shopkeepers, maid servants, and soldiers!”

            Behind us, men launched catapults of fire toward the city, just as they did for Whiterun. I could hear screaming from within the walls, men and women running for cover. It deterred my heart for only a moment, then I heard Galmar’s words.

            “We are the true sons and daughters of Skyrim! And we have come this far because our cause is true. Because we fight as one. And because our hearts are bursting with anger! This time is different, men. They expect an ambush. They will not surrender as mercilessly as Balgruuf the Greater did. Men will die, buildings will burn, and through the smoke will Ulfric Stormcloak arise. Through the death, Ulfric Stormcloak will be reincarnated. Through the loss of one city, a new country will emerge, brought to its people by the true sons and daughters and handed to Jarl Ulfric Stormcloak himself!”

            A great cry of men rose up as the flames continued to soar through the air, great stripes of reds and oranges painting the night sky and illuminating the fields around us. I stared up at the sky, listening to the echo of Galmar’s husky voice as it reverberated off of the trees and rocks around us, and I thought of Jergen. This is what he left us for, the battle, the comradery, or the blood of others. I wished I could have asked him which it was.

            “They have barricades, but we will tear through them and the Imperials behind them! Everyone on me! Let’s show them what true Nords look like!”

            And just like that, I was charging into battle. I don’t know what it was about this battle specifically, but it was different from taking Whiterun. When we fought for my city, my hometown, it was easier to think of all of the things that would justify our march. Jarl Balgruuf asked for a fight, and we delivered. Now, we were taking a city by force.

            I wasn’t sure why that made a difference to me. A city is a city. But the screams of women from within the wall made my heart ache. Just fight, Vilkas. Don’t think, just fight.

            But I couldn’t just fight, and honestly, it was almost as if I didn’t. I can only recall that battle from a viewpoint above my own body. I didn’t have to think, and I just watched myself fighting from somewhere else in this world. I watched as I trailed behind Cassius and Lydia. I watched as I ducked as fire flew toward us. I watched as the gates were opened, and Imperial soldiers began to fall at our hand.

            After that, I can only remember certain parts.

            I remember seeing Lydia run ahead of the group as we dispersed, her blade held up above her head to deliver a crushing blow to a legionnaire. The man staggered back and hit the railing of the city, and Lydia swooped down to grab his leg, pulling it out from beneath him and tossing him over the rail into the water.

            I remember a blond Nord who was at the camp with us, draped in a blue Stormcloak cuirass as I was and speaking in an accent much like my own. He held a sword in one hand and a shield in the other, and I watched as he slammed his sword against his own shield, enticing the Imperials with vicious shouts.

            I remember Cassius, whose shouts were twice as vicious as the Nord beside me. He was simply strolling through the center of town, shouting **FUS** at Imperials who charged at him, tossing them off of the side and into the water below.

            I remember a man running toward me, easily half the size of me, who I had simply swung my greatsword at with minimal effort, and it had opened his chest and spilled the contents of his stomach at my feet.

            I remember Lydia also spilling the contents of her stomach, in a different manner, throughout the battle. At one point, she was wobbling and leaning against the side of the wall near a cemetery as an Imperial soldier charged at her. I remember running to her, jumping in front of her and taking the blow the Imperial meant to deliver to her. He struck me in the left shoulder with colossal force, but before I could stagger back and assess the blood waterfalling to my feet, I had tackled him. I hit him low, bringing him to the ground and driving his own blade through his chest. I had stood, clutching my shoulder, and carried Lydia away from the scene.

            I remember Cassius shouting **IIZ** as several Imperials came his way, and as they froze and hit the ground, he had laughed with booming volume, cracking thunder through the sky. He had stomped on their frozen throats, cracking their flesh and severing their heads. He had kicked one like a ball and hit another Imperial in the head.

            I remember arrows firing at me and Lydia, but I had ducked just in time, cradling her weak form to my chest. Though we were spared, the arrow landed in the chest of a Stormcloak soldier right behind me, and he fell to the ground. I had stared for a moment, feeling overwhelming guilt sweep through my gut, but Lydia had yelled at me. “Keep moving, Vilkas! Keep moving!”

            I remember Cassius’ face when he saw me carrying his wife, heard his heartbeat pick up in his chest. He had run to us, taking his wife from my arms and putting her on her feet behind him. He outstretched his arm to block her from the flames that ejected from his lips. A stream of molten anger set at least six men up in flames, and they rolled around on the docks of Riften trying to extinguish themselves.

            I remember what Cassius had yelled at his wife: “Damnit, Lydia! I told you this wasn’t safe for you!” She had countered: “It’s not safe for any of us, moron!” They had kissed.

            I remember Galmar striding through the chaos around him without an ounce of remorse on his face. I didn’t even see him lift a blade, though his sword was coated in crimson admission. He nodded to Cassius, then toward Mistveil Keep.

            Able to reclaim my body after that, control my own actions, I had joined the three headed to the keep. We climbed the steps to the, in comparison, small quarters that belonged to the Jarl. Cassius had spit flames at the banners flapping in the wind as we passed them.

            Inside, we were greeted by a large man who bore Nordic features but greatly resembled a centurion in size. He rushed toward us, but for whatever reason, it was me who he centered in on. He had a small blade in his massive hand, but ultimately, he was fighting with fists.

            I ducked as he threw a punch, swooping under his arm and kicking him in the back of his leg. His knee buckled and he hit the floor. I jumped on his back, gripping the back of his hair to lift his head off of the floor and place a blade at his throat.

            “Wait! Stop!” a woman’s shrill voice rose up in the room. She came out from her hiding place behind the wall, this man seeming to be her only defense. “Don’t kill him! Maul, are you alright?”

            The man beneath me grumbled. “I’m fine, my Jarl.”

            The woman scoffed. “If you’re alright, then why aren’t these intruders dead? You had one job, Maul, and you’ve failed miserably!”

            Cassius stepped toward the woman. “Maven Black-Briar? I’m afraid your reign on this city has come to an end. Now why don’t you hand over that little circulet and the papers on the table back there, and we’ll get you back to your meadery where you…well, honestly I don’t think you belong there either.”

            “I’ll do no such thing!” Maven said through her teeth. Her voice was particularly annoying to me, for whatever reason. “This is my city. I have connections you couldn’t even dream of having.”

            Cassius laughed at her. “It’s not your city anymore, Black-Briar. The Reach belongs to Jarl Ulfric now.”

            Maven cackled a disgusting laugh. “Listen here, you nub. I don’t know who you think you are, but I can assure you—”

            Her sentence was cut short as Lydia lost her patience and decked Maven in the nose. Maven cried out, staggering backwards into her throne. She covered her face, blood seeping from between her fingers. The man under me wiggled, but I pressed the blade more firmly to his neck, and he was still.

            Lydia leaned down to her, keeping her face inches from Maven’s. “It’s not your city anymore, you pompous bitch. I want the papers and the circulet, and I want them in my hand right now.”

            Maven stared at Lydia for a moment, then she removed her circulet and handed it to Lydia. A man from the room behind Maven’s throne emerged, handing Lydia the papers from the table as well. I hoped the papers were important because this was the most uncomfortable exchange I’d ever seen.

            Lydia nodded. “Great. See, it’s not difficult to cooperate.” She stood and pointed to the exit. “Now get out of Laila’s Keep.”

            Maven glared, but she and her people left anyway. I released the man as Maven Black-Briar passed him, and he followed behind them. Once they were outside, I could hear Maven spouting orders again.

            Lydia handed the circulet and the papers to Galmar, who smirked and nodded. “Good work, Battle-Maiden.”

            Cassius smiled sideways at me. “Battle-Maiden. I like that.”

            Lydia nodded, looking around at all of us, then at Galmar. “I like that too.”


	24. Moments After

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cassius and Vilkas have some serious talking to do, and as we all know, talking is not Cassius' strong suit.
> 
> POV: Cassius

            The three of us had taken horses back from the Rift, leaving the wagon for whoever else needed it. Galmar had left shortly after the battle, ready to return to Ulfric and tell him all about the fight, no doubt. If Ulfric was anything like me, and I was certain that he was, he’d want every detail.

            My wife was on a horse to the left of mine, sitting pretty but looking absolutely exhausted. I had told her before we even left that she shouldn’t come with us. Not because she couldn’t handle herself, obviously she could, but because I’d grown concerned for her health.

            Vilkas, who had his shoulder cleaned and wrapped by one of the nice ladies at the camp, was riding on my right side. He was thoughtful, staring up at the sky as we traveled. I knew he’d saved Lydia in the city, and that she very well may have died if he hadn’t seen her, and I decided at that moment that I wanted to repay him.

            “Hey, Vil. You like surprises?”

            He looked over at me, a confused scowl on his face. “No.”

            I nodded. “I didn’t think so. But Karl, she likes surprises.”

            “Aye. Kara has said before that she hates surprises, but I think that’s a front. She likes surprises a lot.”

            I nodded again, a smirk stretching across my face. “Want to get in on a surprise for her?”

            Even Vilkas couldn’t contain a small smile. “Aye. I’d like that.”

            I turned to Lydia. “Mind if we take a small detour, Lyd?”

            She shrugged. “Not at all.”

            After that, we’d headed south of Whiterun, toward the guardian stones. Helgen wasn’t too far from here, if I remember correctly. Within the hour, we were passing Pinewatch.

            “Where exactly are we headed?” Vilkas asked.

            “You’ll see.” I assured him, and we continued down a small path toward a large opening in a field. We approached the large house from the west end, near the entry way. Vilkas stared up at the light wood with wide, confused eyes.

            “What is this place?” he asked, staring at me in surprise.

            “This is Lakeview Manor, Vil.” I explain as we dismounted. “When I was away from Whiterun for those weeks, I wasn’t leaving because I was mad at my sister.”

            Vilkas looked over at me as we hitched the horses. “You weren’t mad? I don’t understand.”

            “Follow me inside.” I said, my arm around Lydia’s shoulder. We all walked into the house, which was hardly furnished yet. Right now, it was just a hollow wooden building with a bed and a kitchen. Lydia walked to the fire place, starting a soft ember glow to illuminate the room.

            Vilkas had a small smile on his face, catching on to the secret. “So you’re moving?”

            I took a breath. “I wasn’t leaving because I was mad at Karalissa. Don’t get me wrong, I was mad that she was keeping secrets, and that sort of fueled the building process. I left because Lydia and I are moving, yes. I was building this house.”

            He raised an eyebrow at me. “You aggressively built an entire house?”

            Lydia snorted. “One hundred percent pig-headed man, this one is.”

            “Watch it, Lyd.” I said with a smile. He turned back to me. “We’re leaving Whiterun.”

            “Why, though?” he asked, leaning against the staircase.

            I sighed, looking over at my wife. “We’re starting a family, Vilkas. Lydia’s pregnant.”

            Vilkas’ eyes widened, a smile stretching across his face. “This is wonderful news. Congratulations!” Lydia offered him a small smile from where she sat near the fire’s edge.

            I cleared my throat. “Actually, Vil, I wanted to thank you for all you’ve done for me.” He shook his head, not quite understanding.

            Lydia pointed up. “Show him the balcony, Cass. I’ll wait here.”

            I nodded, patting Vilkas on the back. “Let me show you the balcony.”

            He nodded, and we climbed the stairs above what would soon be out bedroom. Vilkas followed behind me past the door to our left, and straight out to the door at the end of the hallway. Through the door, we were on the balcony. It was getting late in the evening, and the sun was setting over the lake. The sky was brushed with magnificent oranges and purples, and they reflected off of the shimmering, sanguine lake.

            Vilkas leaned against the railing. “Wow.” he breathed. “It’s incredible, Cassius.”

            “It is.” I agreed, resting my hands on the rail. We were silent for a few moments, then I spoke to him. “Vil, I’m not exactly good with emotional ballads, so bear with me.”

            He nodded. “Okay.”

            I took a deep breath. “When I think about all of the things I’ve done in my life, all the things I’m proud of, I don’t think about the dragons or the war or the glory. My fondest memories are images painted in my head, moments that I captured in a split second before the context fell away with the rest of the world.”

            Vilkas looked over at me then. “Like what?”

            I smiled. “Scaling the wall in Solitude with my sister when I was thirteen. Sneaking out of the Bard’s College late at night with Karalissa to swipe drinks from Corpulus at the Winking Skeever. Bringing Ulfric Stormcloak back to Windhelm after Helgen was destroyed. The first time I met Lydia in Dragonsreach. The day we both realized we were absolutely in love with each other.” I looked back at him. “And then, there was the day the four of us went to fight that dragon.”

            “The day you and Kara were reunited.”

            I grimaced as I thought. “Well, yes, of course. But more than that, it was the day I realized that my sister hadn’t been by herself. You took care of her.”

            Vilkas’ face turned red. “It was all of us taking care of her, Cassius. Not just me.”

            “Yeah, but you loved her, Vil. And that’s the only thing she’s ever wanted. To be in love and have someone love her back.” I patted his back. “I owe you every day for giving that to her, and now I owe you even more for saving Lydia back in Riften.

            “Cassius, I—”

            “You’ve protected the two people who mean the absolute most to me in this damned dark world, and I can’t thank you enough for that.”

            Vilkas was silent for a moment, then he smiled, looking back out at the lake. “You’re a good man, Cass.”

            “As are you, Vilkas. And I want you to have Breezehome.”

            He stared at me like I was crazy. “You’re not selling it?”

            “Nah. I don’t need the coin.” I looked back out at the lake. “I don’t want my kid to grow up knowing me as the hero of Skyrim or the Dragonslayer who saved Tamriel. I just want them to know me as their dad, and I want to spend my life making them as happy as my dad made me for a little while. I know Karalissa doesn’t remember him, and I know that takes a toll on her some days. I don’t want that for them. I always want to be here.

            “Breezehome is a good home, but it’s the Dragonborn’s home. This is Cassius’ home, and it’s where I want my life. I want to wake up every morning with Lydia in my arms, and I want to sit on this damned porch and look out at this lake and watch my kids playing.” I looked over to him. “Karalissa wants a family, and you need a home for that. Her birthday is coming up, and I want to give Breezehome to the two of you.”

            “Cassius, we can’t accept a home from you.”

            I snorted. “Oh, but you will. I won’t take no for an answer.”

            Vilkas spent a few moments in thought, a smile on his face. “I was just thinking about my father a little while ago, on the horses. I wonder sometimes if he would be proud of me, if he would think I made the right decisions. I’m almost positive that Kodlak would be proud of me and Farkas, and he was more of a father to us than Jergen ever wanted to be. But still, am I anything like what Jergen wanted me to be?”

            I leaned against the rail, facing away from the lake. “I think about that too, whether or not my father would like the man I’ve become. The way I figure it, Vil, it doesn’t matter what they think anymore. We both made the decisions that we thought were honorable, or most of the time at least, and I think that’s what matters.” I gave him a nudge. “If it’s any consolation, I’m proud of ya. You’re a good man to my sister and to everyone you interact with. I’m proud to say you’re my brother.”

            Vilkas looked near tears, but he tucked that emotion away rather quickly. He grimaced, the closest I could probably get to a smile. “Thank you, Cass. And thank you for the home. Kara will love it, and so do I.”

            “You’re welcome, brother.”


	25. A Moment of Normality

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After a long month of weddings and battles, the Companions share an utterly normal breakfast.
> 
> POV: Karalissa

            I stretched my arms out, a yawn escaping from my lips as I walked down the hallway toward the stairs. I was eager to head upstairs and get something to eat, and to tell Farkas that his brother was home.

            Vilkas had wandered in late last night, and I had been so deep in sleep, I hadn’t even noticed him crawl into bed until this morning. He hadn’t even changed out of his armor, he was so exhausted, and I had no doubt it was incredibly uncomfortable to sleep in it. I was always stiff if I slept in my own leather armor, so I couldn’t imagine what metal felt like. Before I left the room, I’d popped his chest plate off, hoping that would help a little. He didn’t even stir, loud snore trailing from his agape mouth as they always did.

            I climbed the stairs to the mead hall, pulling an elastic from my wrist and tying my hair back. It had grown out significantly in the nearly two months since it had been cut. Now reaching just past my shoulders, I could pull it into a ponytail on days like today when it wasn’t cooperating.

            I stepped into the mead hall, walking down the small incline to reach the long table. Tilma had just put out fresh food, and she was sweeping the corner near the stairs.

            “Morning, Tilma. Thank you for the breakfast.” I called to her, smiling in her direction.

            “Good morning, Harbinger. It’s my pleasure.” She beamed at me before returning to her broom. I scratched the back of my neck, staring down at the table to decide what I wanted.

            I decided on an apple and some grapes, and I swiped a random tankard before I headed out to the courtyard. The sun was peaking over the mountains in the distance, the visible rays painting the ground a soft orange color. I walked out and leaned against the pole, watching the sun come up.

            “Apples and grapes? What are you, a rabbit?” a familiar voice said from the courtyard. I turned to see Aela sitting cross-legged in her own little world, popping pieces of some sort of pastries in her mouth. I smirked, bouncing down the steps and over to her.

            “Not a rabbit, actually, but even wolves have to take a break from meat every once in a while.” I said, lowering myself to sit beside her. “You’re up early.”

            She nodded, swallowing the food in her mouth before she spoke. “I was out late last night hunting. Haven’t been to sleep yet.”

            “Catch anything good?”

            Aela shrugged. “Goats, mostly. Tracked an elk for a while, but I lost him halfway across the hold.” She took another bite of her pastry. “Always next time.”

            “Did you bring Farkas with you?” I asked, taking a bite of my apple.

            “Nah.” she said. “He was tired yesterday. Didn’t want to bother him. I think he’s worried about Vilkas.”

            I laughed a little. “Well, Vilkas is back. He doesn’t need to worry anymore. He wandered in late last night. I didn’t even realize he was home until this morning.”

            “Odd. I didn’t even notice his scent when I returned home. And he stinks. It’s not hard to miss him.” Aela noted, finishing one pastry and starting another. She had a plate of six or seven in front of her.

            “Are you going to eat all of those?” I asked, laughing slightly as I tossed my apple core into the grass around us. “I’ve never seen you eat so much.”

            Aela shrugged. “I wanted sugar. These are good.” She nudged the plate to me, and I picked one of the pastries off of the metal sheet. Taking a bite, I nodded, they were good. A flaky crust with a sweet glaze and a raspberry center. Aela smirked. “Told you. Tilma is amazing.”

            I nodded, eating my pastry in silence as we watched the whelps trickle out into the courtyard. They’d been waking early recently to train with Codus, improve his technique before Vilkas got a hold of him.

            Aela snickered as Torvar started giving him pointers. “Better watch yourself, Torvar. Vilkas might not like that you’re taking his job.”

            Torvar turned to us. “I ain’t done nothin’.” he said, one hand on his hip. “Besides, Vilkas isn’t even here.”

            “Oh, Vilkas is here.” I called to him, leaning back on my palms. “He’ll test your arm when he wakes up, Codus.”

            Torvar turned back to Codus, and though he thought we couldn’t hear him, we did. In a low voice, he whispered to the whelp. “Sorry, kid. That’s all the training I can do with you. Vilkas scares me, and I’d rather not piss him off. Want to grab a drink instead?” As Codus shook his head, Aela and I snickered quietly.

            The fire salts from the forge drifted through the air as Farkas emerged from Jorrvaskr and looked around for us. He found us sitting on the edge of the courtyard, and headed toward us, a plate in his hands also piled high with pastries.

            As he sat on the other side of Aela, he set the plate in front of us. “Morning, ladies.” We mumbled greetings to him as he looked at the plate that was already in front of us. “I thought Aela would like these, but I guess she already found ‘em.”

            I smirked as I listened to them talk. Aela snorted. “You know me so well. Just add them to the pile. I promise, I’ll eat them all.”

            “That’s one of my favorite things about you. Doesn’t matter what it is, coat it in sugar and Aela will eat it.”

            “You’re damned right.” Aela said, pulling another pastry from the pile and taking a bite. “Thank you.”

Farkas nodded to her with a smile, then leaned around her to look at me. “Vilkas is home.”

            “That he is. Sleeping like the dead.” I said to him.

            “That means Cassius and Lydia are home too?”

            I thought for a moment. “I don’t think Vilkas would have come home and fallen asleep if they weren’t already safe in their beds.”

            Farkas nodded. “I think you’re right.” he said, taking his own pastry from the plate and popping the whole thing in his mouth.

            I nudged Aela. “I think I’ve found the right mission for Codus, to prove his worth. I was hoping you would go with him.”

            Aela nodded. “Sure, Lissa. Just tell me when, and I’ll go.”

            We sat for a few minutes in silence, watching Njada and Ria training together and eating the massive stack of pastries before us. Not long after we’d eaten half the tray, Vilkas emerged from the same set of doors we’d come from. It only took him a moment to find us. A scowl on his face as usual, he walked toward us slowly. I could feel the fear radiating from the whelps, and I couldn’t contain a loud laugh.

            Aela shot me a confused glance. “What’s so funny?”

            I grinned crookedly at her. “They’re all horrified of my husband.” Farkas laughed too, leaning against the side of the wall behind us as we watched Vilkas walk toward us. He ran a gloved hand through his dirty hair, the sun reflecting off of his wolf armor and causing all of us to squint as he approached.

            He lowered himself to sit beside me, wrapping his arm around my waist and planting a firm kiss on my cheek. “Not hard to find you all.” he said to the group. “Just follow the scent of sugar and wet dog.” Aela pushed the plate of pastries toward him, and he picked one off and took a huge bite.

            “How was your trip, brother?” Farkas asked him. “Take the city?”

            Vilkas spoke around a mouthful of our sugary breakfast. “Aye, we took the city.” Farkas and Aela cheered. “It was a good trip. Tiring, but good. Cassius and Lydia want to stay here for a while, though, and take care of some things at home. I figured I might head back to Windhelm in a few days and see if Jarl Ulfric has any other work for me.”

            Aela rolled her eyes. “Can’t even stay with us for a week?” She smirked slyly. “I get it. No worries. Leave it to me to look after your wife and younger brother. Shirk all of your responsibilities for a few days to—”

            “Aela, just shut up.” Vilkas interrupted with a smile. He turned back to me, pulling me closer to him and leaning down to my ear. “I missed you.”

            Farkas laughed, obviously having heard it. “I missed you too, brother. Good to see you.”

            Vilkas rolled his eyes. “Hello, Farkas. I also missed you.”

            Aela leaned over me. “And you didn’t miss me? Gods, you act like Lissa is important or something.”

            “Talos above, you two are so annoying!” Vilkas said with a laugh. Aela and Farkas erupted into a fit of giggles. “Can I have fifty-four seconds to talk to my wife?”

            Aela leaned against Farkas as she laughed. “Sorry, sorry.”

            Vilkas shook his head, leaning back down to me. “I did miss you, pup.”

            I gave him a quick kiss, then shoved another pastry in his mouth. “I missed you, too.”

            He smirked, pulling the pastry away from his face and taking a bite. He looked out at the courtyard, chewing his breakfast and watching the whelps. I leaned against his shoulder, listening to Aela and Farkas mumble to each other. After a moment, Vilkas swallowed the contents of his mouth and nudged me. “Who the hell is that?”

            I looked up at him, not having to follow his gaze to know who he was talking about. “That’s Codus. He’s our new recruit.”

            Vilkas looked between me and the whelp, then stared down at me like I was crazy. “Is that a joke?”

            I smiled at him. “Nope. No joke. He’s nice.”

            “Nice.” Vilkas echoed, staring at the whelp. Codus was sitting awkwardly with the other Companions, glancing over at Vilkas every few minutes, then looking away quickly. “Why is he staring at me?”

            “I told him you’d test his arm when you returned to us.” I explained to him. “Farkas gave him a quick test, but he needs a lot of work. I’d like for you to train with him.”

            Vilkas stared back at the whelp, his mouth returning to a scowl. “Tell me, Harbinger. What inspired you to give that _noodle_ a chance?”

            I smacked Vilkas’ arm playfully, earning no reaction from him. “He’s a good kid. He just needs some training.”

            Farkas leaned around Aela. “His form needs some work, but he’s got a decent arm. Just needs someone to believe in him. Lissa and I believe in him.”

            Vilkas looked to Aela, who was still shoveling pastries into her mouth. “Does Aela believe in him?”

            She shook her head. “I don’t care.”

            Vilkas nodded. “Alright. I’ll test his arm.” He planted another kiss on my cheek before he stood and sauntered toward the whelps. The three of us stood too, and I followed behind him quickly. Aela and Farkas hung back, leaning against the side of the underforge.

            I hopped ahead of Vilkas, bounding up the steps and to the table where Torvar, Athis, and Codus sat. I put my hand on the whelp’s shoulder, nodding to the two Companions on either side of him.

            “Morning, Lissa.” Athis said, leaning back in his chair.

            Torvar raised his mug of mead to me. “Morning, Lissa!”

            “Good morning, boys.” I said to them with a smile. Vilkas approached behind me. “Codus, this is Vilkas. He’s our Master at Arms.”

            Codus turned in his chair, staring up at my husband. Vilkas stood steady, his arms folded across his chest and his mouth stretched into a grimace. Codus cleared his throat. “Good to meet you.”

            With no response from Vilkas, I continued. “Vilkas is going to test your arm, and whatever he says you need to train will be the basis of your first assignment. Sound good?”

            Codus smiled. “Of course, Harbinger. Thank you.”

            I nodded, turning back to Vilkas. “Vilkas, take him out to the yard.”

            “Aye.” he grumbled, turning on his heel and heading back down the stairs. Ria and Njada cleared out, headed back up the steps and to the tables.

            I leaned down to Codus, who had fear seeping out of his pores. “Don’t be nervous. He acts tough, and he is, but he’s a nice man deep down.” I patted his back. “Go on.”

            Codus took a breath, then stood to walk to the courtyard. Vilkas stood in the center with his hands behind his back. I watched as Codus stood before him, and I leaned against the wooden pole as Vilkas began to speak.

            “The Harbinger said to have a look at you, so let’s do this.” he grumbled, pulling his greatsword from his back. Codus shifted his weight between his feet, then pulled his own sword from his hip. Looking at the worn metal, I turned to Njada.

            “Any word from Eorland on that sword?”

            Njada nodded. “A day or two more. He’s been working on new armor for Aela.”

            I nodded, turning back to the pending fight. Torvar continued speaking behind me. “What’s up Vilkas’ ass today? He seems angrier than usual.”

            I shrugged. “He’s always a grump.” Torvar grunted in agreement.

            The sword fight began moments later as Codus swung at Vilkas. Vilkas blocked every swing, though some took a little more effort than he was prepared to put into it. Codus looked shaky, but overall, I was impressed. My chest swelled with pride, glad to see that he was gaining some confidence.

            After a few swings, Vilkas sheathed his sword. Codus’ hung by his side as he waited for Vilkas’ evaluation. I skipped down the steps toward the two of them. “What’s the assessment?” I asked him.

            Vilkas grunted. “Foot work is terrible. Balance needs improvement. Technique is almost there, but rough.” Codus’ face fell slightly. “His swing is strong, though. And his aim is impeccable. That sword is terrible, but once we get a nicer blade in your hand, I wouldn’t want to be your enemy.”

            Codus beamed up at Vilkas. “Thank you, sir.” Even from the courtyard, I could hear Aela and Farkas snicker at the word ‘sir’.

            Vilkas scowled as he heard them. “We’ll start training this afternoon. Meet me here.”

            Codus nodded. “Okay. Thank you again!” He dashed back to the other Companions, who congratulated him loudly.

            Vilkas groaned as he walked back to the other half of the Circle, and I followed behind him. He looked back at me as we approached them. “He needs a lot of work, Kara.”

            “I know.”

            He smirked at me. “And I am not _always_ a grump.”

            I laughed. “I know that, too.”


	26. A Moment Together

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cassius and Lydia have a surprise for Karalissa on her birthday.
> 
> POV: Lydia

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello all!
> 
> Sorry for the delay on my end. I've actually been working to edit an entire work that I wrote long before Blood's Honor, and even longer before Liberation of Skyrim. It's been sitting in limbo for a while, but because of some upcoming events in Liberation of Skyrim that involve characters from this old/new story, posting Whispers in the Dark has become mandatory.  
> I promise, I haven't forgotten about the Companions or the war, I've just been working with some other characters in Skyrim. If you're really invested in Liberation of Skyrim, I have to advise that you read Whispers in the Dark when I post it tonight. Later chapters will make soooo much sense.
> 
> Thank you all for your patience and involvement with my writing process. Between school and work, writing is becoming more difficult as other aspects of my life take higher priority.
> 
> You guys rock! Keep an eye out for Whispers in the Dark!  
> -haunter_ielle

            “What are you doing that for?” I asked Cassius as he used a fork to stab holes in the potato he was holding.

            He looked up at me, his brow furrowed but a smirk on his face. “It makes the inside soft, Lyd. Ventilates it.” He rubbed the outside with oil, then placed in on the pan with the other potatoes and walked it to the oven under the stairs.

            I shook my head, genuinely confused. “There’s so much that goes into cooking. I just don’t get it.”

            Cass laughed loudly. “You sound just like my sister.” He pulled some ingredients from the cupboard, setting them on the table. “Vil should be here soon. He wanted to make the cake. Said he knows what kind of cake Karl likes.”

            I groaned. “Cass, you missed the best cake of my life. Vilkas made this beautiful cake for Farkas’ birthday and it was so good. Karalissa and I basically ate the whole thing.”

            Cass had to think about that for a moment. “Shouldn’t Farkas and Vilkas have the same birthday?”

            I blinked at him. “They do, Cass.”

            “Oh. Then why—you know what, I don’t really care.”

            I rolled my eyes. Cass had been cooking most of the afternoon, working on baked potatoes and casseroles and whatever else. Since it was Karalissa’s birthday, he had invited her and Vilkas, along with Aela and Farkas, over for dinner tonight. Karalissa and Vilkas were supposed to be coming over early so Vilkas could bake the cake, and so Cass and I could share our news with our sister, but I was conflicted.

            I leaned across the table toward Cassius as he laid ingredients out for Vilkas. “Cass, are we sure we should tell her today?”

            “We can’t give her the house if we don’t tell her why we’re moving, Lyd.” He didn’t even look up from the table.

            I sighed. “I know that. It just feels like I’m taking the attention away from her, and I don’t want that. I don’t even want the attention.”

            Cass huffed. “Lyd, have you even met my sister? We’re going to tell her, she’ll cry a little about being an aunt, she’ll pretend to be mad at Vilkas for keeping a secret, and then we’ll all eat. It’ll be a great night.”

            A knock on the door interrupted us. As I stood to answer it, I shrugged over my shoulder to my husband, just letting whatever could happen be as it would. I knew he was right about the situation and how it would play out, but still, something about it felt wrong. Of course, I knew I couldn’t keep it a secret much longer. My armor was starting to feel incredibly snug as my belly grew, and I’d soon have to switch to some dresses or maternity outfits. I gagged at the thought.

            I opened the door, greeting Karalissa and Vilkas with a warm smile. Vilkas wasn’t wearing his armor, as I expected him to be. Instead, he was wearing black trousers and a black shirt, so out of character and yet totally him. Karalissa looked as she usually did, except her growing hair was pushed back with a headband. The dark scar descending over her right eye was especially prominent, but in contrast, she looked especially happy.

            Smirking to Karalissa as I stepped back to let them into the house, I nodded to Vilkas. “Almost didn’t recognize you, street-walker.”

            He rolled his eyes. “I didn’t want to get flour on my armor. Last time, it took me hours to polish the armor back to its normal shine.” He patted the satchel on his back as he walked inside. “I’ll change after I cook.”

            Karalissa nudged me as she passed. “I told him I’d get him a frilly apron to put over his armor, but he wouldn’t have it.” She winked at me. “There was a nice lavender one at Belethor’s.”

            I laughed. “A damned shame. I would have paid to see Vilkas in an apron.” Vilkas grumbled something unintelligible as he walked away from us and I shut the door.

            Karalissa bounded up behind him, poking at his sides and bouncing around. “It would frame his figure perfectly. Just picture it: a nice frilly apron and a cute little chef’s hat.”

            Vilkas grumbled, swatting Karalissa’s hands away. “Leave me be, pup. No aprons.” He patted Cassius’ back as he entered the kitchen. “They’re objectifying me, Dragonborn. I feel violated.”

            “If it wasn’t her birthday, I’d roast her alive for ya. But since she’s important today and I happen to like my wife a little, I can’t help ya, brother.” Cass said, winking at me.

            Karalissa laughed. “Tomorrow, then.” she noted, slumping into a chair by the fire pit, which was unlit on this night. I took the seat beside her, watching her turn around and hop up onto her knees, leaning over the back of the chair to watch Vilkas cook. She nodded to Cass. “Hello, brother. Long time, no see.”

            Cass sat down at the table where Vilkas was starting the cake batter. “Hey, Karl.” He tossed a couple grapes at her, and they bounced off the top of her head. “Happy birthday, kid.”

            “Thank you, thank you.” Karalissa said, bowing in mockery. “As Vilkas swears, birthdays are to celebrate another year of not dying. I’ve come close once or twice, but I’m still here, so bring on the cake.”

            Cass laughed. “Twenty-two years of your shit, Karalissa, and I don’t love you any less. Well, not today, at least.”

            “I’ll have to try harder tomorrow.” She said, earning another laugh from her brother. She turned to me. “Hi, Lydia. How has your day been?”

            I shrugged, a smile on my face. “It’s been alright, Karalissa. As you’ve noticed, I’m sure, it smells like good cooking in here, so I haven’t been allowed to touch anything all day.”

            Karalissa’s jaw dropped. “Gods, Vilkas won’t let me touch anything when he’s cooking either! As if handing him a whisk or holding a bowl will poison the batter.”

            Vilkas snickered, mixing the contents of a bowl with one hand, just as he had the last time he’d made a cake. “Kara, I’m not going to make you stand and hand me things.”

            “But I could be helpful!” she said, resting her head against the back of the chair.

            “Sit there and let me cook, pup. That’s helpful enough.” Vilkas said with a smile.

            Karalissa groaned. “That’s what you always say.”

            Cassius slammed his fist on the table in excitement. “Ha! I get it now! ‘Pup’ because she’s a wolf.”

            Vilkas cleared his throat, obviously caught off guard by the topic. “Well, sort of. It’s because she acts like a happy puppy instead of a brooding beast.”

            Cass snorted. “And the title of ‘brooding beast’ is reserved for you, gothlord?”

            As Karalissa and I laughed, Vilkas shook his head. “What is this?” he grumbled. “Make fun of Vilkas day?”

            “I’m sorry, you big grump.” Karalissa said, slumping back into her seat the correct way. “He’s been training with our new recruit for the past few days and now he’s all moody and no fun at all.”

            Vilkas leaned against the table and looked up at the ceiling, releasing a long, dramatic sigh. He looked over at Karalissa. “Do you want to hold the bowl?”

            Karalissa jumped out of the chair, bouncing toward Vilkas and taking the bowl from his hands. She held it while he added ingredients, watching each addition of ingredient and stir with untimely attentiveness.

            After a few minutes, Vilkas took the bowl back from her and set it on the table. She beamed at him, then strode back to her seat and sat beside me again. Vilkas just shook his head in mock annoyance, but I could clearly see a smile on his face.

            Karalissa rested her head on the back of the chair again. “See? Twice as fun when we do it together.”

            Cassius make fake barfing sounds. “It wasn’t fun for him, Karl. He let you hold the bowl so you’d shut up.”

            “And he’s having twice as much fun now that I’ve shut up.” Karalissa countered. “Aren’t you, Vilkas?”

            Vilkas was buttering and flouring the bottom of the cake pan. “Of course, dear.” he answered with intense sarcasm, not even looking up from the pan.

            Karalissa gestured to Vilkas with an extended arm. She smirked at Cassius. “My point has proven itself.”

            “I can name at least ten things that are way more fun to do without your wife.” Cassius said, then thought twice and shot me an apologetic glance. “No offense, Lyd.”

            I rolled my eyes, knowing he meant no harm by it and that he was just stupid. “Tread lightly, Cass.”

            Karalissa snorted. “And I could easily name twenty things that are twice as fun to do _with_ your wife.”

            Cassius narrowed his eyes. “Grocery shopping.”

            “Exploring.” Karalissa countered.

            “Business meetings.”

            “Swimming.”

            “Reading.”

            Karalissa gasped, obviously offended. “Reading is one hundred times more fun to do with someone else.”

            Cassius’ face twisted into a scowl of utter confusion. “You read by yourself all the time!”

            “Of course I do, you buffoon.” Karalissa said, rolling her eyes. “That doesn’t mean I have more fun by myself.”

            “You don’t like grocery shopping with me?” I interjected, genuinely curious.

            Cass ignored me, continuing his debate with his sister. “Almost every time I see you by yourself, your nose is in a book.”

            “And every other time my nose is in a book, I’m reading with Farkas. Did you happen to forget that it happens to be one of my favorite pastimes?”

            Cassius snorted. “You’re not married to Farkas, Karl. Unless that’s changed since the last time I saw you.”

            Vilkas reappeared from putting the cake in the oven. “Something you want to tell me, Kara?” Cass and I laughed at that.

            Karalissa raised her arms in defeat. “How did we go from me proving my brother wrong to me being married to Farkas?”

            Vilkas sighed, starting on the frosting. “Make me a list of all of the things that are more fun to do with someone else, and I’ll side with you on this. Until then, I’m afraid my opinion lies with your brother.”

            Karalissa slumped further into her chair, sliding out of it and onto the floor. “I should have known you’d side with him, you big, solitary grump.” She sighed, then her brow furrowed. “Speaking of reading, where have all of your books gone?” She pointed to the bookshelf behind me.

            I’d forgotten I’d packed the books away, and that Cassius had already moved them to Lakeview Manor. I looked over to him, who looked just as confused as Karalissa. After a moment, he understood, then shrugged to me.

“Now is just as good a time as any, I guess.” he said, standing from the table and walking toward the fire pit. He scratched his beard as he pulled a chair toward Karalissa, who looked over her shoulder at Vilkas as she returned to her chair.

            “What’s this about?” she asked, genuinely concerned.

            Cass looked to me, holding my hand across the staunched fire pit. “I told Vilkas, Lyd. You can tell Karl.”

            Karalissa looked at Vilkas again. “Told Vilkas what?”

            I sighed, smiling at Karalissa. “Well, we wanted to wait until later, but I guess that’s not going to happen.” Cass and I exchanged a shrug. “We have a bit of an announcement to make.”

            A grin spread across her face, seeing where this was headed. “What is it?” Vilkas had taken a break from his frosting to walk toward us, standing behind Karalissa’s chair.

            I took a deep breath before I told her. “We’re having a baby.”

            Karalissa’s eyes grew wide, and she was absolutely silent for a moment before she leapt across her seat and wrapped her arms around my neck. “That’s amazing, Lydia! Congratualtions!” She pulled away from me, turning her attention to her brother. She hugged him too. “Why didn’t you tell me, Cass?”

            He laughed, pushing his sister off of him. “With the war, there hasn’t been a moment to be sentimental, Karl.”

            She smiled. “I guess.” Then she looked around at us, sitting back in her chair. “But why are you packing books, then? Are you…remodeling? Making room for a nursery?”

            Cassius shook his head. “Moving, actually. I built a house in Falkreath Hold.”

            Karalissa’s jaw dropped. “You _built_ a house?”

            Vilkas put his hands on her shoulders. “A very nice house, too.”

            She smiled up at him, then looked back at Cassius and me. “I want to see the very nice house! Oh gods, I’m so excited for you two!”

            “There’s more to the announcement, Karalissa.” I said to her, putting my hand on her arm. “We’re moving out completely in two days. Cass and I were hoping you and Vilkas would help us move, and in return we would help you move.”

            Karalissa nodded at a frighteningly fast pace. “Of course, we’ll help you move! Oh, we can start packing tonight and—wait, help us move?” Vilkas squeezed her shoulders.

            Cass cleared his throat, affection never being among his strengths. “Actually, Karl, I want you and Vilkas to take Breezehome.” As Karalissa’s eyes began to water, he continued. “When we were younger, you always said you wanted to live in some obscure corner of the woods with a husband and three kids in a big house. I can’t give you the kids, and it’s not exactly big or in the woods, but it’s close to Jorrvaskr and big enough for a few younglings. I _can_ give you the house, Karl, and I want you and Vil to take it.”

            Karalissa wiped her eyes, then gave Cassius a real hug. “Thank you, brother.” He nodded to her as she pulled away from him, then leaned toward me. She wrapped her arms around me again. “And thank you, sister.”


	27. A Moment of Discussion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> During a baking experiment, the gang delves into some hard-hitting topics of discussion. Later, the Companions are drunk (big surprise, right?)
> 
> POV: Farkas

            “Alright, here’s how it works.” Cassius held up a container of white powder. “This is powdered sugar. Apparently, if you replace flour in a cake with this, it explodes.”

            My eyes widened, the thought of blowing something up exciting me. “How do you know for sure?”

            Cassius smirked, pointing over his shoulder at the table. “Karalissa tried to bake once, and she nearly blew the kitchen up.”

            Lissa blew a raspberry in Cassius’ direction. “I did _not_ nearly blow up the kitchen, Cass. I just…blew up the cake.”

            I laughed because Lissa looked so offended, then turned back to Cassius. “I want to try it. How do you make a cake?”

            Aela snickered. “Ask Vilkas. He’s a professional.” She was working on her third piece of cake, her feet kicked up and resting on the table as she leaned back in her chair.

            Lissa was eating her third piece. Vilkas had made a really good cake for her. It was white on the inside, with a raspberry filling and a cream frosting. Lissa and Aela made weird moans with every bite they took, saying how good the cake was. Lydia sat with Aela in the corner, the two of them chatting quietly and jumping into the conversation every once in a while. My brother sat with Lissa with his arm around her waist. She was holding her fork, and every once in a while, she’d feed Vilkas a bite of her cake.

            “Vilkas, tell us how to make a cake.” I said, staring at my brother until he answered.

            He laughed a little. “Alright, start with two cups of flour. Sift that together with a spoonful of baking powder, and then, in a separate bowl, mix together about half a cup of butter, three eggs, and a little water. Then, mix in the dry ingredients and bake it.”

            Cassius and I exchanged a look, and then I nodded to Vilkas. “Okay.” I went to the cabinet and pulled a few glasses from the shelf. I held them up for my brother. “Will this work for a cup?”

            Vilkas stared at me like I was crazy. “Farkas…it’s not an actual cup.”

            Lissa stared up at him. “You told him to use a cup.”

            He blinked twice. “A cup, like the measurement.” Lissa and I shook our heads, not understanding the difference. Vilkas put his hand over his face. “Ysmir’s beard, baking is not supposed to be this difficult.”

            Lissa gasped, pointing to me. “Farkas! He means one of those little cups with the handles!”

            “Ohhhh.” I said, putting the glasses back and pulling the little measuring cups from a drawer. After that was sorted out, Cassius and I made a cake just like Vilkas told us to, except we used powdered sugar instead of flour.

            As we were pouring the batter into a pan, Lissa spoke up again. “You didn’t put butter in the pan like Vilkas does.”

            Vilkas shrugged to her. “They don’t plan on eating it.”

            “Oh.” Lissa said, staring at the cake on the table. She sighed. “I want another piece, but if I eat it, I know I’ll get sick.”

            Cassius laughed. “I say do it, Karl. It’s your birthday, might as well go a little crazy.”

            Lissa looked back up at Vilkas. “If I take another piece, you have to help me eat it.”

            My brother laughed a little. “Fine. But if you vomit, I’m not helping you clean it up.”

            “Deal.” Lissa said, pulling the cake toward her to cut another piece. “This is your fault, you know. If you didn’t make such a good cake, I wouldn’t be faced with such a dilemma.”

            “So sorry.” Vilkas said, scratching at his beard. He’d been doing that a lot.

            “You should shave that thing.” I said to him, putting the cake in the oven and turning it on.

            Vilkas stared at me, making that face he did when he was annoyed. “Why?”

            “You scratch it all the time. If it itches, shave it.”

            He thought for a moment. “Maybe it’s time.” He looked down at Lissa. “What do you think? Should I shave it?”

            Lissa just shrugged, putting a forkful of cake in Vilkas’ mouth. “It’s not my face, dear. Do whatever you want.”

            Vilkas grunted, scratching his beard again. “Well, I don’t want to look weird, Kara.”

            “You already look weird.” Lissa said, giving him a playful nudge. “The beard has nothing to do with that.” She fed him another bite.

            Vilkas nodded, chewing the cake. “Alright. I’ll shave it.”

            Cassius pointed at the ceiling. “I have shears upstairs if you want to use them. It’s the least I can offer since I’m blowing up a cake in your house.” He looked into the oven, waiting for the cake to rise. Vilkas had told me and Aela earlier that he and Lissa were moving out. I guess he thought we would be mad, but Aela and I weren’t really that surprised.

            As Vilkas headed upstairs to shave his face, Lissa spoke to me, like she had read my mind. “Are you two sure it won’t bother you that we’re leaving?”

            Aela snorted. “You’re not leaving, Lissa. You’re moving a few houses away.” Lissa nodded, listening to Aela. “Besides, it’s healthy to separate work from family.”

            I sat at the table with Lissa, staring at Aela. “What about us, Aela? We work together.”

            Aela gave me a playful look. “I don’t care much about my health.” Lydia made a fake gagging sound and looked at Lissa, making her laugh.

            Lissa smiled at me as I sat across from her. I knew she was worried that we thought she was abandoning us, but we didn’t think that at all. Especially me. Lissa was my best friend, and I just wanted her to be happy. I felt the same way about my brother. I was glad they were moving out, because they deserved it.

            Lissa pushed the cake away from her. “What do you two think about promoting Torvar?”

            I was confused. “What do you mean? Making him a member of the Circle?”

            “No, no.” Lissa said, resting her head against her hand. “I’ve been observing him closely in the time that has passed since Codus arrived. He just worked so well with him, training him so he wouldn’t feel nervous with Vilkas. He showed true compassion and surprising leadership skills.”

            Aela snorted. “Torvar is a drunk who felt sorry for the whelp. He can’t even remember his own duties half the time, let alone the responsibilities of others. He would be a terrible leader.”

            “I’m not saying we make him a leader.” Lissa explained. “What do you think of making him Recruitment Advisor?”

            Aela laughed louder than I’d ever heard her laugh. “Lissa, what the hell is a Recruitment Advisor?”

            Lissa smirked. “A Recruitment Advisor is responsible for making sure new recruits know the ins and outs of the Companions: who the leaders are, who to ask for different types of work, who to train with for a certain skill. His duties would include showing them around Jorrvaskr, meeting with me to discuss their progress, and keeping them out of trouble.”

            “That just sounds like a glorified tour guide.” Aela said.

            “Exactly.” Lissa said, earning a laugh from Cassius. “He’s always talking about a promotion, so I’ll give him a fancy title and an easy job and maybe he’ll stop asking.”

            Aela laughed again. “I like the sound of that.”

            “I’ll talk to him tomorrow morning, then. I figure we should give him an extravagant ceremony, similar to actually being inducted into the Companions.” Lissa noted, leaning against the wall behind her. Vilkas dropped something upstairs, cursed loud enough for us to hear, and then went quiet again. We all looked up at the ceiling, then continued with our conversation.

            “Codus will need some work soon, Lissa.” Aela said. “I’m running out of odd jobs to give him.”

            “I know.” Lissa said, nodding to me. “He needs something a little more Dustman’s Cairn, right Farkas?”

            “Well, I don’t know about that.” I said with a grin. “Dustman’s Cairn was a little harder than we thought it would be.”

            Lydia spoke up. “What happened in Dustman’s Cairn?”

            “Dustman’s Cairn was Lissa’s test.” I explained. “When you want to join the Companions, you get an assignment where a leader follows you and watches how you do. If you show honor, you get to be a real Companion, not just a whelp.”

            Lissa nodded. “My assignment was to retrieve a fragment of Ysgramor’s weapon from Dustman’s Cairn, and Farkas was my Shield-Sibling.”

            “Sounds easy enough.” Cassius said, still staring at the cake in the oven. “What was the catch?”

            “Lissa got herself locked in a spring-trap.” I said with a laugh. “I had to get her out.”

            “Sounds like Karl.” Cassius said. “If she got herself stuck, why’d you all let her join?”

            Lissa glared at Cassius, trying to look scary, but she just wasn’t. I continued. “Well, when Lissa was stuck, a group of werewolf hunters caught up to us. Lissa helped me fight them without even asking any questions. She just did what she had to do to protect me.”

            Lydia nodded, looking really proud of Lissa for some reason. “Is it alright if I ask questions about being a werewolf? I don’t want to offend anybody.”

            We all nodded, and Aela spoke. “We’re not easily offended.”

            “Who’s been a werewolf the longest?” Lydia asked, looking around at us.

            Aela raised her hand. “That would be me. Then Vilkas, Farkas, Lissa.”

            “How do you become a werewolf?” Cassius asked, leaving the oven to sit at the table with me and Lissa. “Do you have to—I don’t know, bite each other?”

            Lissa and I laughed, but Aela was very serious. “We’re not vampires, Cassius. Becoming moon born begins by partaking in the blood ritual. A member of the Circle offers their blood to someone of their choosing, and in drinking the blood of a beast, that same blood will course through new veins. Thusly, a werewolf is created.”

            Cassius blinked. “What about transformations? Are those just on full moons?”

            “Stereotypes.” Aela said, shaking her head. “Transformations are different for all of us, depending on our mindsets. Take Lissa, for example. She’s an incredibly emotional person, so when she becomes too emotional, she transforms. The same goes for Vilkas, who gets too angry too quickly. In contrast, Farkas has very little going on upstairs, and has total control of when he wants to transform, like I do.”

            Lydia nodded again. “Karalissa told us something about special abilities. What determines what ability you receive? Does it have something to do with who offers you the blood?”

            Aela was thoughtful for a moment. “Well, Skjor had a lot of theories about how abilities are selected for different individuals.” Lissa and I looked at each other. It was the first time Aela had openly said anything about Skjor in a long time. We smiled. “He thought that it had something to do with your personality and characteristics.”

            Cass shook his head. “I don’t follow.”

            Aela sighed. “I have a heightened ability to track. I can see things on a spectrum of heat. I can see footprints for about two hours after a foot has moved locations, I can see auras of color all around your bodies, and Skjor thought that was because I’m such a solitary person. He used to say my subconscious was trying to force me to make connections with people, and helped me to be able to follow them.”

            As Vilkas came back down the stairs, Aela pointed to him. “Vilkas can put thoughts in our heads. Single words whispered in our brains like instructions. Skjor thought that was because Vilkas is so tempered and fiery. Even when he can’t speak, he tells us what to do.”

            Vilkas nodded, as smile on his freshly shaven face as he sat back down with Lissa. He wrapped his arm around her waist again. “And Kara cares too much about how other people feel, so the beast lets her know what everyone is feeling all the time.”

            “My beast isn’t very nice to me.” Lissa added, shaking her head.

            “What about Farkas?” Cassius asked, walking back to the oven. “What’s your ability, brother?”

            I shrugged. “I don’t have one.”

            “You just haven’t discovered it yet.” Aela said to me, a smile on her face. “Skjor said that Farkas is very open-minded and soft-hearted, and he’s so focused on the well-being of others that he hasn’t discovered his own talents.”

            “Skjor was too nice to me.” I said, smiling as I looked down at the floor.

            Lydia leaned back in her chair. “What was Skjor’s ability?”

            Aela’s face fell a little at the question, but when she looked back at me, she smiled again. “Skjor was the leader of the pack. His ability was to know exactly where we were, all of the time. He knew exactly how to find us, always.”

            “I have to ask.” Cassius said, walking back toward the table, but leaning against the stairs. “If Karalissa was the newest to partake in the blood ritual thing, why is she the leader now? Not that I think you’re not fit to lead, Karl, I just can’t connect the dots.”

            Lissa shook her head. “I’m not the leader of anything, Cass. I’m an advisor to the _Companions_. That’s all.”

            Vilkas nodded. “Kodlak chose her for the Companions. Skjor and Aela chose her for the pack.” Lissa smiled up at him, then to Aela.

            “Wait,” Cassius said. “The previous Harbinger wasn’t a werewolf?” He looked over to Lydia. “I’m lost again.”

            “Kodlak was moon born.” Aela said, walking toward the kitchen. When she got to the table, she grabbed a bottle of mead and handed it to me to open. She never could open bottles. While she waited, she continued. “Kodlak hadn’t given in to the beast in a long time. He didn’t have the ability to, honestly, but he was very passionate about curing himself.”

            “Why was that?” Lydia asked as I handed the bottle back to Aela. She booped my nose with her finger before she walked back to her chair.

            Vilkas sighed. “He was dying, and he wanted Sovngarde.” I knew it hurt my brother to talk about Kodlak. So did Lissa, and she rubbed his back as he spoke, pointing to me. “The three of us had given up transformations until Kodlak found a cure.”

            “Was he not a Nord?” Cassius asked. We were confusing him. I looked at Lissa, who was still scratching Vilkas’ back but was looking at her brother.

            “Wolves don’t go to Sovngarde, brother.” As she said it, Cassius’s eyes widened. “We go to the Hunting Grounds.”

            Cassius blinked. “You don’t…go to Sovngarde?”

            “We’re going to Sovngarde.” Vilkas said, looking at me. “When I die, I want to be with my father and my brother and my wife. Not with wolves.”

            “Why don’t you cure yourselves now?” Lydia asked all of us. “What’s stopping you?”

            “Kara’s the only one who knows where the cure is.” Vilkas said. “And I won’t push her to make a decision.”

            Lissa looked around at all of us, most of the room expecting an explanation. She didn’t want to give one, but she said it anyway. “I’m conflicted. It’s not that I don’t want Sovngarde, I do. It’s just that…when I think about all of the things that could happen to me before Sovngarde, I see that the blood is helpful, sometimes even necessary.” She looked down at the table. “It’s hard to control, and I hate that I know what everyone is feeling all the time. But I know good and well that if I hadn’t been so angry at the fort, and the beast hadn’t taken control, Farkas would have died. I’m not willing to bargain something like that.”

            Lissa looked back up at us. “I do want Sovngarde, I really do. But if I were to die with the blood having protected someone else from death, I’d be okay with that.” She looked back down at her hands. “I’m just not ready yet.”

            “And that’s okay, Lissa.” I said to her as Vilkas kissed the side of her face. “We have time.”

            “Aye. We’re not dying anytime soon.” Vilkas said to her, and to me.

            Cassius and Lydia exchanged a look, saying something to each other silently. Then Cassius turned back to us. “Let’s get drunk.”

            “I’m all for it.” Aela said, finishing her bottle of mead.

            “Why are we getting drunk?” Vilkas asked, a smile on his face.

            “Because it’s Karalissa’s damned birthday and she’s talking about dying. Birthdays are for cake and liquor, not sad shit.” He went to a cabinet, pulling bottles of mead out and passing them around. “Pop ‘em open, Fark. Let’s finish this night strong.”

            I smiled, opening a bottle and handing one to Lissa. She smiled at me. “Your cake never exploded.”

            “Nope.” I said. “It never did. You must not be such a bad cook after all.”

            “I don’t know about that.” Vilkas said, taking a swig from his own bottle.

And just like that, everyone was happy again.

 

Drunk and silly, the four of us stumbled through Whiterun, trying to get back to Jorrvaskr. Once Lydia had decided Cassius had enough to drink, we had left Breezehome and wandered outside, trying to get back to Jorrvaskr.

            Aela and I had stopped to dance a little on the hill that led to the House of Clan Battle-Born. It wasn’t romantic dancing, or even good dancing. We were both just standing in one spot and sort of bouncing, moving our arms around. I don’t know why, but I thought it was the right thing to do.

            Lissa stared at us while Vilkas laughed. “I’m telling you…you guys are really good dancers. Where did you learn to move like that?” she asked us.

            Aela stopped dancing. “Lissa, are you good at maces?”

            “Maces?” Lissa asked, hopping up onto Vilkas’ back. He caught her, then hoisted her further up his back so he could hold onto her better. “Like the weapon?”

            “Yeah.” I said. “The weapon. Are you any good?”

            Lissa thought for a moment, brushing her hair away from her face. “I—I don’t know. I might be.” she looked down at Vilkas. “Take me to the courtyard, Villy. I’ve gotta try maces.”

            “Kara, you’re drunk.” Vilkas said. Even though he’d had just as much to drink, he didn’t seem drunk at all, but Vilkas had always been really good at that. “The only place you’re going is to bed.”

            Aela groaned. “I need to know! What are you bad at, Lissa?”

            “Not maces.” Lissa said, resting her cheek on the top of Vilkas’ head as we walked toward home. “I’m probably good at maces. You have to let me try.”

            “That doesn’t sound like a good idea, dear.” Vilkas said with a laugh. “You’re all piss drunk. I’m not letting you touch a mace.”

            Aela tripped, falling forward but catching herself before she hit the ground. She snickered, but I wrapped my arm around her waist to keep her steady. Vilkas looked over at us, but with Lissa on his back, he just kept walking toward home.

            As we passed the big tree in front of Talos, Aela gasped. “Guys.” she said, stopping in the middle of the path. “Let’s have a party.”

            “We just left a party, Aela.” Vilkas said.

            Lissa yawned. “It was a good party.”

            “Let’s have another one!” Aela said, bouncing up and down.

            “Another time, Aela.” Vilkas said, climbing up the steps. “Tonight, we’ll rest. It was a fun party, so let’s not make this night end badly. No maces. No parties. Sleep.”

            “Sleep.” Lissa mumbled, putting her hands on Vilkas’ cheeks. “I’m tired.”

            “Let’s get you to bed, pup. You’re an exhausting drunk.” Vilkas said, and Lissa just nodded. He turned back to us as he opened the door to Jorrvaskr. “Goodnight, you two. Don’t get into any trouble.”

            “We won’t brother.” I said, and followed in behind him.

            Aela plopped down at the long table in the center of the room, and we watched as Vilkas carried Lissa downstairs to bed. After a moment, Aela looked back up at me. “What now?”

            I sat beside her. “Teach me how to be better at Rummy.” I said to her.

            Aela laughed. “You are good at Rummy.”

            “Not as good as you.” I said. “You always win.”

            Aela laughed a really drunk laugh, then she leaned toward me. “Want to know my secret?”

            “Yes. Tell me.”

            She whispered in my ear. “I can see the reflection of their cards on their eyes.”

            I jerked away from her. “You’re a cheater!” When she nodded, we both erupted into a fit of wild laughter.

            We laughed for a long time, gripping our sides to keep them from splitting in half. After a little while, we both stopped, and Aela really showed me how to play Rummy. She gave me pointers and tips and tricks, and we didn’t stop playing until we passed out.

            That night, I dreamed of Sovngarde, standing with my brother and Kodlak.

            But Aela wasn’t there.

            And I knew no matter how close I made myself to her, I would always lose her in the end.


	28. A Moment Dreaming

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Karalissa has a nightmare, and Vilkas tries to convince her it's not real. Later, Karalissa, Vilkas, and Farkas help Cassius build some furniture.
> 
> POV: Vilkas

            I sat on the floor in our new living room, placing books on the shelf in the corner. Kara had said she was only bringing a few of her favorite books to our new home and leaving the rest in her study in Jorrvaskr, but I realized as I unpacked the books that ‘a few’ must mean something different to her. There were easily fifty books in this chest. I smiled looking at the shelves, knowing that this amount actually was ‘a few’ compared to her collection at Jorrvaskr.

            I hadn’t been able to sleep that night, and so I’d taken to unpacking the rest of our possessions from Jorrvaskr. We didn’t have much to bring, but Cassius and Lydia had left most of their furniture here for us, and that lightened the load on our pockets in the way of things to buy.

            Kara, however, was sleeping soundly upstairs in our bed, as she had been for hours. After traveling to and from Lakeview Manor, loading and unloading buggies, and touring the vast expanse of her brother’s home, she had collapsed almost as soon as we returned home.

            I was spending my night in silence, something I had very little of recently. The silence had always been very comforting to me. It wasn’t a tidbit of information about myself that I openly shared with anyone, for I was likely to be thought of as a madman. There was just something about the silence, and the way you could always find it if you looked hard enough. It was in the woods, the fields, the dark of a room; sometimes you had to travel far or wait a while for it, but it always comes back.

            As I was unpacking Kara’s books, I began to read the titles and wonder why she picked the ones she did. A Dream of Sovngarde, Breathing Water, Hallgerd’s Tale, Last Scabbard of Akrash—actually, Farkas had just told me about the latter. He had said that his favorite books that Kara read to him were fiction, and this Last Scabbard of Akrash was his favorite yet. I held the book, turning it over in my hands and admiring the worn, brown cover. It had to be several hundred years old.

            Intrigued, I turned around and leaned against the bookcase. I got comfortable and cracked the book open.

            I sat like that for a while, immersed in the twisted tale of a slaver’s daughter and her Khajit lover. To be completely honest, I understood why she picked that book. It was riveting, but written in a way Farkas was likely able to comprehend easily.

            Upstairs, I heard footsteps coming quickly down the hall. I looked up from the book, watching as Kara came down the stairs and looked around the room. She was dressed in her usual ratty pajamas, her hair messy and tangled from deep sleep. Her eyes were wild though, as she frantically searched the room for something unknown to me.

            When her eyes rested on me, she relaxed significantly. She walked toward me, taking a seat on the ground next to me and wrapping her arms around my torso. I looked down at her, at the tears that trailed down her cheek and smeared her war paint.

            “What’s wrong, Kara?” I asked, genuinely concerned. I put my arm around her shoulders, pulling her closer to me.

            Kara was quiet for a long time, just clutching my chest and crying silently. I wiped tears away from her face.

            “Kara?”

            She looked up at me then. “I had a dream.”

            I felt my own brow furrow. “You…had a dream?”

            “I never dream, Vilkas. But I did tonight, and it was horrible.” She pressed her face into my neck, willing herself to be comforted. I was surprised to hear that she didn’t dream, though I wasn’t sure why. She had never spoken about dreams before, but I think I was more surprised at the fact that I didn’t know that about her.

            “What did you dream?” I asked. Kara looked up at me, seemingly unsure if she should answer. I brushed her tangled hair away from her face. “You can tell me.”

            Kara blinked twice before she spoke. “I was at your funeral, Vilkas.”

            I jerked my head back in surprise. “ _My_ funeral?”

            She nodded. “I was standing on top of the Skyforge, looking back at the Companions standing behind me. Farkas was crying and Aela was holding him, and when I looked to the forge it was _you_ on the wooden perch above the flames. I was just standing there and staring at your lifeless body.”

            I held her close to me, trying to make her feel better. “It was only a dream, Kara. A nightmare. I’m fine.”

            “That wasn’t it.” Kara said, her brow crinkling in confusion. “The funeral ended, and I was in a field by myself. It was daytime, and I was laying in the grass and looking up at the clouds. A shadow descended over me, and I sat up. Kodlak was there, looking down at me.”

            I felt pain ripple through my chest at the thought, and so did Kara. She looked up at me, silently asking if I wanted her to stop. “I’m fine.” I told her. “What did Kodlak say?”

            “I stood to face him, and I asked him what he was doing here, where ever ‘here’ was. He just took my hand, and he repeated what he said in Ysgramor’s Tomb…‘Take care of my boys’.”

            I shook my head, swimming in confusion. “You were only dreaming, Kara. It wasn’t real.”

            “I never dream, Vilkas.” she said. “I _never_ dream.”

            I pulled her back into my chest. “That’s all it was, Kara. It was a dream. You’re just stressed from the move and the recruitment.” I ran my hand over her hair. “After Kodlak died, I had a lot of nightmares.”

            Kara looked up at me. “You did?”

            “Aye.” I said, nodding. “I had dreams where I couldn’t find Farkas, or dreams where I was lost in the woods. I had dreams where I would transform in the middle of Whiterun and savagely murder people I knew. I had dreams where you would leave me, dreams where you were with another man.”

            Kara sat up, putting her hand against my face. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

            I put my hand over hers, holding it against my face and closing my eyes. “I didn’t want you to think I was losing my mind.”

            “I could have helped you, Vilkas. I knew you were grieving, but I didn’t know you were suffering.”

            “They were only dreams, Kara. That’s all they were. Dreams aren’t real.” I opened my eyes again. “It was painful to see, all of it, but it was nothing that affected me outside of the dream.”

            Kara shook her head. “That’s suffering, Vilkas, and it did affect you outside of the dreams. You were so sad for so long. I should have known there was something else going on.”

            “Dreams aren’t a rarity for me, Kara.” I explained to her. “They don’t affect me the way they affect you.”

            Her eyes were confused. “You dream often? Every few weeks or so?”

            “Every night.”

            Kara’s eyes widened. “ _Every_ night?”

            “Aye.” I laughed. “That’s why you’re frightened. You had a nightmare, and it scared you because you rarely dream. But that’s all it was. It wasn’t real.”

            Kara thought about that for a moment. “You’re right.” she said, leaning against me again. “Just a dream.” We sat like that for a while, enjoying the silence. Kara looked down at the book in my lap as the time passed. “You’re reading Last Scabbard of Akrash.”

            I nodded. “Aye. I don’t usually read fiction. I was pleasantly surprised.”

            “Well, I have a ton of recommendations for fiction is you’d like them. You know, after you finish this one.” She tapped the cover. “What part are you at?”

            I smirked, picking the book up and opening it to where I left off. “The armorer is trying to explain the nature of his relationship with the mysterious woman. Sounds like he _is_ in love with her, to me.”

            Kara laughed. “If you like it now, keep reading. It gets better.”

            I laughed a little, picking up where I’d left off, but reading aloud for Kara to hear. “I taught her how to mend swords specifically, from all kinds of nicks and breaks, hairline fissures, cracked pommels, quillons, and grips. When she first started, she had no idea how to secure the grips to the tang of the blade...”

 

            The following day, Kara and I were returning to Lakeview Manor to help Cassius finish moving into his new home. In all honesty, he didn’t really need any more help, but Lydia had insisted we come back to help her since Cassius wouldn’t let her.

Before we had left, though, Kara had run to Jorrvaskr to tell Farkas of our plans for the day, since Middas was usually the day they spent together reading or training or whatever it was the two of them did. She had also said she wanted to look in on Codus and fetch a book from her study for Lydia.

She returned with the book, and with my brother, who was now joining us on our trip to Lakeview Manor. I wasn’t at all surprised. Knowing how similar my wife and brother were, I figured Farkas would want to see Cassius’ house at some point. Kara had talked it up quite a bit, and Farkas was excited.

            And so, as Lakeview Manor came into view when we rounded a corner of the winding path that led to the front door, Farkas stared with his mouth agape and his eyes wide. Kara laughed and nudged his side.

            “I’ve never seen a house so big in my life.” Farkas said, shaking his head.

            Kara smiled up at him. “I told you. It’s huge!”

            Farkas shook his head. “Cassius _built_ this?”

            “Yep.” Kara said, bounding toward the front door. For whatever reason, she didn’t bother with knocking, and when she tried to push it open, she smacked her face on the wooden frame.

            As she staggered back, Farkas and I both erupted into wild gales of identical laughter. Rubbing her forehead, Kara shot us a look of absolute hatred that was probably intended to be menacing, but as always, it just wasn’t.

            “Don’t look at me like that.” I said to her, struggling for breath around my laughter. “What compelled you to run into a door?”

            Kara grimaced at me, folding her arms across her chest. “I thought it would be unlocked.”

            “It wasn’t.” Farkas said, still laughing wildly.

            “Yeah, well, I know that now.” Kara said, her face tinted red in embarrassment.

            As we reached her, our laughter fading but not stopping, I wrapped my arm around her shoulders and kissed the side of her face. “Are you alright, love?”

            “Fine.” she grumbled, still embarrassed about the scene she’d just caused.

            The door opened then, and Lydia poked her head out of the frame. “Hi there. I _thought_ I heard someone knock.” That comment only fueled me and Farkas further into our fit of laughter. Kara grumbled something probably unintelligible to Lydia, but sounded something like ‘damned annoying wolves’.

            “Rough morning?” Lydia asked, stepping back to let us inside.

            Farkas patted her shoulder as we entered. “Lissa hit her head on your door.” Kara groaned ahead of us as Farkas spoke. “Your house is very nice, Lydia.”

            Lydia smiled. “Thank you, Farkas. It’s good to see you.”

            Cassius emerged from the kitchen as we all stepped through the entry room and into the main room.  He was wearing a sleeveless shirt and ragged trousers covered in paint, and had a half-eaten slice of cheese in his hand.

            “Hey!” he called to us, his hand raised to greet us casually. “Welcome back, pals.”

            “I can’t believe you built all of this, Cassius.” Farkas said, patting Cassius on the back. “You’ll have to show me how you did it sometime.”

            “I’d be glad to, brother.” Cassius said, then looked around at us before he turned back to Farkas. “You didn’t bring your lady.”

            Farkas laughed. “Aela was out late. She wanted to sleep.”

            Cassius raised an eyebrow. “Party-girl?”

            “No.” Farkas said. “There wasn’t a party. She’s a werewolf.”

            “Ah.” Cassius said, disappointed that Farkas didn’t seem to get his brand of humor. “Well, I hope you all came ready to do some tedious labor, because Lyd wants the balconies decorated.”

            “We’re ready.” I told him. “Farkas hasn’t seen the balconies yet.”

            “You have to show him everything, Cass.” Kara added, smiling at her brother.

            “You’re right.” Cassius said, putting his arm around Farkas’ shoulders. “A grand tour, then!”

            The rest of the afternoon was spent showing Farkas around the property, making small talk with Cassius and Lydia, and then eventually decorating the balconies. There wasn’t left that he had to do to finish the house, but the little that had to be done was what he’d been putting off.

            Cassius and I worked on building most of the day, while Farkas and Kara put the furniture in their places. They toted tables and chairs and benches that we built up the stairs of the balconies and put them where they saw fit, then worked on decorating the actual balcony.

            Eventually, we ran out of both things to build and places to put our furniture, so Cassius brought out the mead and we all sat and watched the sunset over the lake. I sat with Kara, my arm around her waist and her head on my shoulder, in the chairs her brother and I built. Farkas leaned against the railing, looking out over the lake and thinking about the day, no doubt.

            “I appreciate all of the help today, Companions.” Cassius said from the bench he shared with Lydia.

            “We’re happy to help, Cass.” Kara said from beside me, smiling over to her brother.

            Farkas turned to us, his brows furrowed. I cocked my head to the side, curious about what was troubling him. “What’s the matter, brother?”

            “Hear something.” he said, nodding toward the steps.

            We waited, and not moments later, a courier bounded up the steps. When he reached the top step, he looked around at us.

            “I’m looking for Cassius Felstead.”

            Cassius raised his hand. “Guilty.”

            The courier nodded. “Got something I’m supposed to deliver, your hands only.” He rifled through the papers in the satchel on his hip. “Let’s see here…” he pulled a letter out, holding up to the light. “Ah, from the Jarl of Windhelm. Something about a battle or an ambush.”

            Cassius snatched the paper from him. “Don’t read my shit, little man.” He pointed to the stairs. “Get off of my balcony.”

            As the courier ran away, terrified by the stranger’s words, Cassius opened the letter and began to read. After a few moments, his eyes widened.

            “What does it say, Cass?” Lydia asked him, trying to read over his shoulder.

            Cassius jumped to his feet suddenly. “There’s been an Imperial ambush outside of Dawnstar. They took the Stormcloak camp in the Pale.” He looked to me. “We have to go now.”

            “An ambush?” I asked, standing from my own seat. “How many men have we lost?”

            “It doesn’t say.” Cassius said, shaking his head. “But enough for them to send for me.” He turned to Lydia, kissing her forehead. “I have to go, Lyd. I have to help them.”

            Lydia nodded. “Go, Cass. Don’t waste any time.”

            Cassius nodded. “Let’s go, Vil. We’ve got to get out there.” Cassius ran inside to change into his armor, leaving the four of us on the balcony.

            I ran a hand through my hair. “We’ll be back in a few days.” I said to no one in particular. “Gods, how many were lost?”

            “Vilkas?” Kara’s voice came from beside me, but my thoughts were elsewhere.

            “Vilkas, I want to go with you.” Farkas said, stepping toward me.

            I raised an eyebrow. “Really? I didn’t think you took a stance in this war.”

            “I don’t. Stormcloaks, Imperials, who cares?” he pounded his fist into his palm. “Just tell me who needs bludgeoning.”

            I laughed. “Alright, then!”

            Kara stood, pulling at my arm. “Vilkas, I want to talk about this.”

            I stared at her in confusion. “What is it?”

            “I don’t want you to go.” she said, clutching my arm in an attempt to make me stay.

            I blinked at her. “Kara, I don’t have a choice. They need us.”

            She shook her head. “You do have a choice, Vilkas. What if this is the wrong choice?”

            “Kara, you’re paranoid.” I leaned down to her ear. “It was only a dream, pup. You have nothing to worry about.”

            “What if it wasn’t a dream, Vilkas?” she asked, fear shimmering in her brown eyes. “I don’t think you should do this.”

            I pulled her face toward me for a long kiss, separating as Cassius reemerged in his armor. “I’ll be fine, pup. Please, stop worrying.”

            “We need to go.” Cassius said, passing us and heading toward the steps. “I have horses out front.”

            I looked back down at Kara, who only shook her head at me. I kissed her again. “I love you, Kara. I’ll be back.” I told her, backing away toward the stairs, my brother right behind me. She looked absolutely horrified, realizing that I was actually leaving her.

            We mounted the horses shortly after, riding away from Lakeview Manor and toward Dawnstar, hoping we weren’t too late. As we raced up the path, I thought of Kara, and the look on her face as I left her on the balcony.


	29. Vilkas' Final Battle

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cassius, Vilkas, and Farkas rush to Dawnstar to help the Stormcloaks in an Imperial ambush.
> 
> POV: Cassius

            We brought the horses to an easy trot as we grew near to the camp in the Pale, the cold air nipping at our necks. I kept my eyes peeled, looking out for red cuirasses or smoke or any other indication of a battle.

            Farkas and Vilkas were silent behind me, the sound of their horses’ steps the only indicator that they were still with me. I turned back to them, hoping they saw something I didn’t.

            “Picking up anything with your wolfy instincts?” I asked them, smirking but genuinely curious.

            Vilkas shook his head. “Nothing yet.” He inhaled the air deeply. “No blood, no smoke. Nothing.”

            Farkas cocked his head to the side. “I don’t hear anything either. Not yet, at least.”

            I nodded. “We’ll keep moving then. It’s only a mile or two out.” I brought my horse back to a gallop, growing more and more anxious by the moment.

            As we veered off the path and into the wooded area surrounding it, the horses’ footsteps were muffled by the thick layer of snow that covered the ground. I looked all around, knowing we were dangerously close, but seeing no signs of an ambush.

            “This is bullshit.” I said, utterly confused by the situation. “I don’t even see the camp.”

            “Wait.” Vilkas said, stopping his horse. Farkas and I stopped too. “Do you hear that?”

            We waited, and slowly, to sounds of men rose up in the air. I turned my horse about, dashing toward the sounds of battle cries in the distance.

            “Cassius!” Vilkas shouted, right behind me on his horse. “Wait!”

            “I can hear them, Vil!” I shouted back, fueled only by the sight of blue cuirasses beyond the trees. “I see them!”

            I hopped off of my horse mid-run, landing on my feet and building up to a full sprint of my own. I heard the twins dismount their horses too, chasing after me as they both drew weapons.

            We ran head first into the battle, through the flames that surrounded the camp and swinging at any red thing we saw. I saw Ralof on his own in the midst of the flames, an Imperial soldier chopping mercilessly at him with an axe.

            **FUS** flew from my lips with a ferocity I’d never known, and the soldier was sent flying away from Ralof and into the ring of fire surrounding the camp. He nodded to me, laughing loudly as I approached him.

            “What the hell happened?” I called to him.

            “What the hell does it look like?” he yelled back, readying his own axe again. “Damned Imperials found us. They’ve been coming in waves. They’ve got explosives, Dragonborn.”

            I nodded. “We need to get as many people out as possible.” I said to him, looking around for survivors. Farkas and Vilkas were both in their own battles on opposite sides of the camp.

            Vilkas used the butt of his sword to smash into the Imperial’s face, causing him to stagger back and giving Vilkas an opportunity to drive his blade through the soldier’s chest. Another soldier approached him, and he swung his blade around quickly, connecting with the attacker’s neck.

            Farkas was working against a large Imperial soldier with a crossbow. He swung his blade out, using it to knock the crossbow away from the Imperial and then to plunge through his stomach. I watched as he reached down to a Stormcloak soldier on the ground, pulling him from the earth and helping him to his feet.

            All around us, explosions were erupting from the ground as both Stormcloaks and Imperials stepped on landmines, sending bodies through the air and down to their death. The sound was ear-splitting, and I nearly covered my own ears while I searched for an opening to charge into. I saw my opportunity in a cleared path between four or five Imperial soldiers.

            I ran out to the group, deciding to use my favorite shout in the midst of the chaos. **IIZ** rang out through the air as several of the targets in my path froze and dropped to the ground. I pulled my broadsword from my hip, stabbing each of the frozen Imperials in the chest as I stepped over them. As I passed, I turned back to the camp and waited for the area to be clear of Stormcloaks before I shouted **ZUUN**.

            Weapons flew up in the air all around me, and several Imperials were unarmed in my path. I ran at them, **YOL** propelling from my scarred mouth and igniting several men before me.

            Then, I watched as Vilkas’ weapon was knocked away from him by two large Imperials. He ducked and dodged their blows with a stealth that I admired, and I ran toward him to help.

            Too quickly, one man’s blade connected with Vilkas’ right arm, and he cried out. As he staggered back, the men advanced toward him. Farkas also picked up speed, dashing toward his brother to save him as the other Imperial made several swipes at Vilkas’ face.

            We both watched, horrifyingly unable to do anything to stop one man from driving his blade into Vilkas’ stomach. He grunted, clutching his stomach and falling back toward the snow. As Farkas and I began to scream, Vilkas hit the ground, triggering a landmine beneath him.

            We all flew, the Imperials who had attacked rocketing out of sight and into the flames around the camp. I watched the blurry images of the battle around us fly past me as I somersaulted through the air. I came crashing down, landing relatively far away from camp. I bounced as I hit the ground, rolling into the frozen earth and stopping just before I hit a rock.

            I shook my head, trying to reorient my eyesight and find the twins. I looked around, and I caught sight of Farkas dragging his brother’s limp body through the snow and away from the battle. I staggered to my feet, stumbling toward them as quickly as I could manage.

            Farkas stopped just near the edge of a cluster of trees, dropping to his knees over his brother. When I reached them, I too fell, looking down in horror at Vilkas’ bloody face and mangled body. He was completely limp, but his eyes darted around at us and the sky above us.

            “Vilkas!” Farkas shouted, putting his hand over the wound in Vilkas’ stomach to stop the blood. “Can you hear me?”

            Vilkas gasped for air, blood flowing from deep wounds on his forehead and down his cheeks. “Aye, b-brother. I hear you.”

            “We’re gonna fix you, Vil.” I told him, pulling his armor off of his chest to make it easier for him to breathe. I ripped the ratty shirt beneath his chest plate, using the fabric to cover the gushing affliction in his stomach. Farkas held the fabric to his brother’s stomach, tears streaming down his face.

            “I don’t know i-if it can be f-fixed, Cass.” Vilkas said. “It’s b-bad.”

            I shook my head. “It’s not that bad.” I tried to assure him, looking around for something to splint his obviously broken arm with. I found a branch in the snow, and I broke it to about the length of Vilkas’ arm. I unbuckled the belt around my waist and secured the branch to his right forearm.

            “I’ll get some help.” Farkas said, looking at me. “Hold his stomach.”

            Vilkas reached out for Farkas with the arm he could move. “Don’t leave me, brother.” he mumbled, blood trickling from his lips. “I’m d-dying. Please don’t l-leave me.”

            Farkas shook his head, crying audibly now. “You’re not dying!”

            “I am.” Vilkas mumbled as he reached for his brother’s hand. Farkas took it, holding on as tightly as he could. “F-Farkas, I know we don’t s-say it, but you m-must know by n-now that I love you.” His voice was barely a whisper.

            Farkas nodded, laughing through his tears. “Of course I know. And you know I love you too, right?”

            Vilkas nodded quickly. “Aye.” His eyes welled up with tears. “P-Please, tell Kara I l-love her, and I’m so s-sorry. I shouldn’t have l-left her the w-way I did. S-She never d-dreams.”

            I nodded to him, pressing as hard as I could against the wound beneath my hands, which still oozed crimson between my fingers. “I’ll tell her, Vil.”

            Vilkas began to cry, coughing up blood and gasping for air around his sobs. “Gods, I love her. I love h-her.” His eyelids began to flutter, his eyes rolling into the back of his head as he grit his teeth.

            He slid into unconsciousness, submitting to the pain that claimed his entire body. Farkas began to panic, shoving my hands away and putting pressure on the wound himself. I leaned down to Vilkas’ lips, listening for any sign of life. Hot, shallow breath trailed from between his mouth slowly, indicating that he was still hanging on somehow.

            I shook my head, trying to think. “I don’t know what to do, Farkas. I don’t know what to do.”

            Vilkas sucked air into his lungs sharply, startling both of us. “F-Farkas?” he said again, his eyes darting around as he searched for his brother.

            Farkas crawled toward him, leaning over his face. “I’m here, brother.”

            “Jergen’s never c-coming back, i-is he?” Vilkas whispered. “He n-never w-wanted us.”

            Farkas shook his head, still crying quietly. “No, brother. He never wanted us.”

            Vilkas just nodded, then he looked over to me. He reached his hand up to my face, placing it against my cheek. “K-Kara, I’m s-sorry I d-didn’t listen.”

            I shook my head in confusion, but I understood moments later that he was confusing me for my sister. “It’s okay, Vilkas.”

            “I-I love you, Kara. Y-You’re all I e-ever—” his voice trailed away as his eyes focused on something behind me. He grinned, raising his arm to point past my shoulder. “D-Do you see him?”

            Farkas shook his head. “Who is it, Vilkas?”

            Vilkas smiled, blood staining his teeth as he laughed, looking up at the sky. “S-Skjor. He’s h-here.”

            “No!” Farkas shouted, turning his brother’s face to look at him. “Don’t leave!”

            Vilkas never responded, but we listened as he sucked in one final breath, and his eyes shut as he faded into the silence of death.

            I sat back, my mouth hanging open in horror as I watched the scene before me. Farkas sobbed uncontrollably, his forehead pressed against Vilkas’. He just kept yelling his brother’s name as he held him, begging the gods to bring him back. I felt my chest surge with guilt and anger and sadness as the reflection of the camp’s flames shimmering off of Vilkas’ wedding ring, hanging from a chain around his exposed neck.

            I looked up to the sky, watching as the stars began to emerge above us and listening to Farkas scream for his brother. I prayed to whoever was listening, anyone, begging them to take today away and start it over. I would have ignored the letter. I would have told them to stay. I would have gotten to Vilkas faster.

            It was too late to hope, too late to wish. It was over.

            It was over.


	30. Afterlife.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Vilkas wakes in the Hunting Grounds with no choice but to face his sudden afterlife with an old friend.
> 
> POV: Vilkas

            I inhaled deeply, my lungs free of the blood that filled them moments before and able to absorb the sweet air around me. I opened my eyes, searching for Farkas and Cassius and the camp.

            Instead, I was six years old. I sat near a campfire with Farkas, who had a black eye and a busted lip. Our mother had punished us for playing too rough after I’d accidentally knocked Farkas off of a hill and onto a rock. We weren’t allowed to have supper, but I’d snuck a loaf of bread to give to Farkas, and he smiled at me as he took it.

            I was seven years old. Our mother was sick, and she wanted to talk to us. _“He’s smaller than you, Vilkas.”_ she said to me. _“It’s your job to take care of him. Protect him.”_ We held her hand until another woman took us from the tent, and we sat outside while she faded away. It was the last thing I ever heard her say.

            I was seven and a half years old. Our cheeks were chubby and our bellies round, and Jergen told us that we had to start training to be warriors and start learning to be men. He said he would take us fishing later that week. We would go fishing the same day every week until we could catch our own dinner.

            I was nine years old. Jergen hadn’t come back for us yet. Tilma said until he came back for us, and until we were big enough to train, she would teach me how to cook. She showed me how to bake a cake that day.

            I was eleven years old. Jon Battle-Born was making fun of Farkas as he tried to read through one of Jon’s poems. I’d lost my temper and beat the hell out of him, nearly breaking his nose. Farkas had pulled me away, and Jon’s mother had told Kodlak. The old man just patted me on the back and told me I’d done good, but we needed to work on my right hook so next time I could actually break his nose.

            I was twelve years old, and Kodlak gave me my first dagger. It was dull and small, but I thought it was perfect. _“To protect yourself, youngling.”_ he said. _“I don’t want you to get yourself hurt.”_ He took us fishing every weekend.

            I was fourteen years old, and Farkas trained in the courtyard. He was much bigger than me now, and Skjor looked down at me from the steps. _“Don’t worry, kid. You’ll catch up to him.”_ I never caught up, and he was always bigger, but I still had to protect him.

            I was fifteen years old. Aela had joined the Companions. She wasn’t nice at all, but she smiled at me when she passed. She and Skjor were best friends. Farkas thought she was pretty, and I teased him.

            I was seventeen years old. Farkas and I followed Skjor and Aela out of Jorrvaskr at night, trying to see what it was they did when they left home. I had thought they were hunting. Farkas had thought they were in love. Turns out, we were both right.

            I was eighteen years old, and Skjor brought me to the underforge _. “Are you sure about this, kid?”_ I had nodded, and he cut his own arm open to let his blood drain into the cauldron in the center. Farkas waited an extra week to be changed.

            I was twenty-one years old. Kodlak showed me how to use a greatsword. I liked it much better than my broadsword, and I wanted one of my own. Kodlak told me to take his, and even when I tried to refuse it, he insisted. _“An old man like me has no use for a blade that nice.”_ He discovered The Rot a week after.

            I was twenty-two years old and reeling as I watched Kodlak deteriorate. I had gone to the bar with Njada. We’d had too many drinks. We had kissed. I’d told her I didn’t want to be with her. She had cried.

            I was twenty-four years old. We had a meeting, and it was decided that Skjor would take over when Kodlak passed. After the meeting, I had gone to my room and sat in the silence, trying so hard not to cry, but crying anyway. I didn’t want Kodlak to die.

            I was twenty-six. A stranger I’d never even heard of before waltzed right up to Kodlak and asked to join, and Kodlak let her. She was small for a Nord and way too happy, but she was skilled with a bow. She was the most beautiful woman I’d ever seen, and I loved her immediately.

            I was twenty-six and a half. Skjor was dead. Kodlak was dead. I had wished for more time with them, but when I didn’t get that, I never wished for anything again. Karalissa and I kissed outside of a fort after I killed three bandits in a moment of rage. She wasn’t afraid of me, like I thought she would be.

            I was twenty-seven. I left Karalissa on the balcony to fight off Imperial soldiers in a war I should have never joined. I let vengeance rule my heart, just like Kodlak said. I heard Farkas crying, and then I was gone. I couldn’t protect him anymore.

            The memories came quickly, and then they were gone. I opened my eyes again, looking up at the sky. I heard myself gasp slightly, amazed by the shades of purple and blue that levitated above me, speckled with brilliant stars and twin full moons. I laughed a little, knowing that the full moons meant I was in my afterlife.

            “Funny, isn’t it?” a voice said from the direction of my feet. I sat up slowly, looking toward the sound.

            Skjor leaned against a tree across from me, his arms folded across his chest as he looked down at me. “The things you remember and the things you forget. It’s funny, huh?”

            I nodded. “Aye. Funny.”

            Skjor nodded. “So you died.”

            I furrowed my brow. “No shit.”

            He laughed, throwing his head back bellowing laughter that echoed through the woods around us. “I forgot that you’re an ass sometimes, Vilkas.”

            “What did you expect?” I asked, a smirk on my face.

            “I don’t know.” Skjor said with a shrug. “You’ve been nicer since you met Lissa.” The nickname sent a wave of grief through my chest, and Skjor must have noticed. “Yeah, you’ll never see her again. Let it sink in for a minute or two.”

            I did just that, sat in absolute silence as I thought about all of the things that would happen to Kara. She would blame herself, I knew that much. It would break her. Instinctually, I wanted to comfort her, hold her until she felt better, but that wasn’t an option.

            “She’s tough.” Skjor assured me. “She moves on. Actually, she and Farkas fall in love. It takes them a little while, of course, because they both think it’s wrong. But eventually, they can’t fight it anymore. They spend the rest of their days together in Breezehome with four little pups running around. They talk about you often.”

            I felt my heart sink, shaking my head and trying to make sense of it. “W-What?”

            Skjor snickered. “I’m just screwing with ya, Vilkas.” At my glare, he sighed. “Sorry, kid. It’s been a long time since I’ve had someone to talk to. Must have forgotten how to do it.”

            “Is there no one else here to talk to?” I asked him, looking around.

            He shook his head. “Not yet. The rest of my pack isn’t here. I just have to wait.” He raised an eyebrow. “Of course, the rest of my pack wants Sovngarde.”

            “I don’t have much of a choice now, do I?”

            “Climb off of your big baby throne, Vilkas. You’re dead. There’s nothing we can do about that.” Skjor rested his head against the tree. “Here’s the deal: answer my questions, and I’ll answer yours.” He waited for my response.

            “Alright.” I said, unsure but completely at ease.

            “What’s the big regret?” When I furrowed my brow, he explained. “Everybody’s got one. When you die, there’s one big thing you regret, something you wish more time you had to do. What is it?”

            “I left Kara by herself. I didn’t listen to her. I want to go back and apologize, say goodbye to her.”

            Skjor nodded. “Yeah, that hurt her more than she’s hurt in a long time.” I looked down at the ground, ashamed of the pain I’d caused her. “She’s okay right now, sleeping in her study in Jorrvaskr. Didn’t want to be by herself, so she spent her night with the huntress.” He raised an eyebrow. “Guess she’ll have to get used to being by herself now, huh?”

            I scowled at him. “What gives you the right—?”

            Skjor held his hand up, cutting me off. “I’m asking the questions first, Vilkas. That was the deal.” As I nodded, he leaned back against the tree’s trunk. “I’ve been gone a while, now. I’ve been watching you all, seeing the choices you make and the things you do. I’ve got to ask…the huntress, is she happy?”

            “Aye. She’s happy.” I said to him, trying to find the right words for him.

            He just nodded. “Aela told me once that she’d never love another man, one night when we were out in the fields together. She never wanted to be some love-sick, doe-eyed broad. She wanted to be a warrior, a strong battle-built maiden who was the best at everything she did. Turns out, she ended up being both.” He let out a long sigh. “She struggled for a long time trying to figure out what was best for her. I don’t think she really…moved on until a few nights ago, when she talked about me for so long at that party.

            “Farkas loves her, and I’m happy that someone is taking care of her. It’s…painful to watch, mind you, but she feels happy when she’s with him, and that’s all I want for her.” He took another deep breath. “And Kodlak died. Lissa is doing well as Harbinger?”

            My heart broke again at the nickname. “Aye, Kara is a good Harbinger. She just wants everyone to feel like they belong.”

            “Because she never did. Still doesn’t.” Skjor said. “She never will. I think about her a lot, all she’s done for the huntress and for all of you. I guess I had a bigger impact on her than I thought I would. She still blames herself for my death, and honestly, the huntress does too sometimes.” He shrugged. “Lissa’s a good kid, though, and she’ll do good things for the Companions.”

            “Do you already know what will happen?” I asked him. “Do you see what will happen for us before it comes?”

            Skjor shook his head. “Afraid not. I’m just a spectator here, and I only see what happens as it’s happening.” Skjor lowered himself to the ground, squatting next to the tree. “Kodlak, though, he always knew what was going to happen. He knew you were going to die, tried to tell Lissa.”

            My eyes widened. “It wasn’t a dream.”

            “She tried to tell you, Vilkas.” he said to me, shrugging again. “No matter. You’re here now and you’ve got me. We just have to get past this.”

            I spent a moment in thought. “It’s over, isn’t it?” I asked, looking up at him. “Isn’t it?”

            “Depends on what you mean.”

            “I can’t go back.” I explained, trying to find an answer. “I’m just…gone. Just like you are.”

            Skjor nodded. “Look on the bright side, though. With you here, Lissa and Farkas will probably never cure their own lycanthropy. They’ll want to be here with you.”

            “I don’t want that for them.”

            “I know.” he said with a laugh. “But we don’t get a say anymore. Just like how I know the huntress will never cure herself. She wants to come here to be with me, and part of me wants to stop her. The rest of me is selfish, though. I want her here, Vilkas. I need her here.”

            “How can you see them? How could you know what we were thinking?”

            “It’s easy if you don’t think about it. Just do it.” He waved his hand to me, gesturing for me to try. “Close your eyes and just be there.”

            I shut my eyes, willing myself to see something. Within moments, I was in Kara’s study, looking down at her sleeping on her desk. Her arms were folded and her cheek resting on top of them, all over the paperwork she must have been working on. She had been crying, I could tell, and I reached out to push her hair away from her face.

            As the tips of my fingers touched her forehead, she jolted awake, shoving away from her desk and rushing down the hall toward Aela, who had also been yanked from sleep.

            Skjor pulled me away from Jorrvaskr and back to the Hunting Grounds. “You’re not supposed to do that, Vilkas. We can’t let them know we’re watching.”

            “Why not?” I asked, looking up at him.

            “It makes it harder for them to move on.” he explained. “I spent a lot of time here by myself, watching the huntress and willing Hircine to give me the strength to leave her alone.”

            Skjor’s brow furrowed, looking up at the sky for a moment. Then he laughed, shaking his head and looking back at me. “What?” I asked him.

            “I’ll be by myself again soon. You’re a lucky man, Vilkas.”

            “What are you talking about? I’m dead.”

            Skjor laughed again. “Oh yeah, you’re dead. But you happened to die next to a miracle.” Skjor stood, extending his hand to pull me to my feet. “Listen, Vilkas, if I don’t see you again, I want you to know that you were always a brother to me.”

            “Skjor—”

            “I know you’re not coming back, kid. You want Sovngarde, and that’s okay. Do what you were destined to do: go back to Whiterun, have a couple of kids, grow old and die with Lissa in your arms and ascend to Sovngarde. Be with Kodlak, the way you were supposed to.” He smiled. “I’ll be fine. I can wait here for the huntress.”

            “What do I do now? Why am I going back?” I couldn’t make any sense of it as Skjor positioned me into a particular spot in the field.

            “The fates have more for you to find, it would seem.” He smirked at me. “You haven’t lived all of the days you’re supposed to. Go. Find your fate. Live.”

            And with that, Skjor shoved me into the blackness that was swirling around me, sucking me back to the pain I’d only just escaped, but providing me with the hope for a better tomorrow.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for scaring you all! I had planned to let the suspense build for a few more days, but I didn't want you guys to freak out any more than you have.
> 
> Hang tight. There's more to come soon.  
> -haunter_ielle


	31. Moment of Healing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Farkas is reeling from the loss of his brother, with no help from Cassius, when a kindly stranger offers her help. Can Farkas trust her?
> 
> POV: Farkas

            I couldn’t stop crying, tears running down my face and dripping all over my brother’s cheeks. I wiped them off of him, taking blood away with my hands. I was shaking, not like Lissa and Vilkas did, but because seeing my brother like this hurt so much I could hardly breathe.

            Cassius finally sat up and looked at me. He’d been laying back in the snow, his hands covering his eyes and smoke trailing from his mouth. He had tears in his eyes. “What do we do, Farkas?”

            “We have to c-carry him back to Whiterun.” I said, still wiping blood away from my brother’s cheeks. I stared down at my fingers, coated in red that dripped onto the white snow. “He has to have a funeral in the Skyforge. With the Companions.”

            I looked up at Cassius, who was really crying now. He covered his eyes with his hands. “What am I going to tell my sister? I can’t even think about the look on her face when I tell her.”

            I shook my head, cradling Vilkas in my arms and rocking back and forth. “He’s dead. It will kill her, like it’s killing me.”

            Cassius wiped tears away from his eyes with a lot of force. He was getting angry. “I shouldn’t have let you two come. I shouldn’t have told him to come with me. This is my fault.”

            “Stop.” I said to him. I just wanted to sit with my brother.

            “I hate myself for being so selfish all the time. Karalissa didn’t want him to go and I didn’t care. All I wanted was this fucking war, and I killed her husband.”

            I shut my eyes. “Cassius, stop.”

            “And I killed your brother. I killed _my_ brother. This is _my_ fault. Damnit Cass, Viarmo was right. Stupid, attention-seeking, pig-headed Nord—”

            “Shut the hell up, Cassius!” I screamed at him. “Stop!”

            Cassius blinked at me, shaking his head as he tried to get a grip. “I’m sorry, Farkas.”

            I choked on another sob. “Vilkas…”

            A million thoughts were in my head, all too fast. Vilkas didn’t go to Sovngarde, so I never would. I couldn’t leave him in the Hunting Grounds. The Companions would never be the same. Lissa would never be the same, not without Vilkas. I thought about what happened to Aela when Skjor died, and I couldn’t let that happen to Lissa. Aela was strong, a lot stronger than everyone else. Lissa was strong too, but not strong enough for this. She wouldn’t survive.

            Would I survive? I’d never been away from my brother for more than a few days. I couldn’t imagine not seeing him at home. Not sitting with him at dinner. Not teasing him about Lissa. Not stealing his bread.

            I laughed, thinking about a letter he’d written me a year before. Said I had to stop stealing his bread. He’d made such a big deal about the bread, and I’d only taken it because I knew it bothered him. I wished I’d kept the letter.

            “Farkas.” Cassius said. I looked up at him, but he was looking behind me.

            I was scared suddenly. “What is it? Imperials?” They were here to take us. To take me again. I didn’t feel scared after a second of thought. They could take me and kill me too. I didn’t care.

            Cassius shook his head, staring past me with his knees cradled to his chest. “Uh, no.”

            I turned around and watched as two strangers approached through the snow. They must have been watching from behind the trees. One was a short girl, a Breton, wearing Mourner’s Attire with a black cowl and thick, black snow boots. Her face and neck and hands were covered in scars, too many to count, but underneath them, she looked familiar somehow.

            The other stranger was an Imperial, dressed like a jester. The sight of him made me uncomfortable. He was short too, but a little taller than the girl. He was following after her, trying to make her stop.

            When they reached us, the girl stood over me, looking down at Vilkas. I wasn’t sure how to react, if I should be scared or if I should trust them. She looked at me. Her eyes were gray like mine.

            “Who the hell are you?” Cassius said from his spot across from me. “You got a problem, broad?”

            The jester’s head snapped toward Cassius. “Watch your tongue, Nord.”

            The girl held her hand up to the jester. “It’s alright. Ignore him.” Her accent sounded familiar too, but I didn’t know how.

            “Who are you?” I asked her, my voice cracking in the middle. My throat hurt from crying so much.

            She looked down at Vilkas. “I think I can help you, if you’ll let me.” She kneeled down to us. “If you want me to.”

            The jester’s mouth fell open. He stared at the girl. “We don’t _save_ people, Listener. Have you lost your mind?”

            The girl ran her hand over Vilkas’ hair. “Not sure that you have much right to talk in the way of losing minds, dear.”

            The jester snickered. “Very clever. I like that.”

            Cassius’ head darted back and forth between me and the girl. “Farkas, I don’t like this.”

            The girl looked at me again. She put her hand over my own. “I know how to heal him, but you have to decide to trust me now. It’s almost too late.”

            The jester put his hands on the girl’s shoulders. “You don’t have to do this. Fixing a stranger in the woods won’t bring him back.”

            She blinked, pain washing over her face as she looked around at the flames from the camp. She started to tremble, a look of horror on her face. The jester tightened his grip on her shoulders, reminding her that he was there.

            She shook her head, blinking away whatever pain she’d just endure and looking back at me. “Do you trust me?” she asked, staring at me with those familiar gray eyes.

            “Don’t do it, Farkas.” Cassius mumbled to me. “Don’t trust little witches with pet clowns.”

            The jester laughed wildly. “Clown! Clown clown clown!”

            I looked at the girl, trying to think of what to do. Vilkas was already dead, what more could she do to hurt him? I nodded to her. “I do. I trust you.”

            She smiled at me, the tapped the jester’s hand. He let her go, and she took Vilkas from me. I scooted away, watching as she laid him back against the snow, then pulled the rest of his shirt away to look at his stomach. She placed her hand over the wound and waited. Cassius and I watched her hand, waiting for something, anything, to happen.

            Then, a yellow light glowed from beneath her hand. Vilkas’ stomach started to glow too, and I watched his skin pull back together and close. I felt my mouth drop open, shocked as I watched her fix him.

            She pulled her hand away from the new skin, and then she ran her hands over the rest of his body. She stopped when she felt something broken, and she would wrap her hands around him again and glow.

            She ran her hand over his right arm. “It’s shattered.” She said. “I don’t know how much function he’ll have of it.” Her hands started to glow again, and Cassius gagged at the popping and crunching sound as his bones went back to where they were supposed to.

            The girl moved up to Vilkas’ face. She put her hands over his forehead, closing the deep cut that stretched from his hairline to his cheekbone. Then, she moved to the cut on the side of his face that went from his jaw to the edge of his ear.

            Finally, she put her hands on his chest. The jester stepped away from her and signaled us to move back too. Cassius and I scooched further away, watching as she glowed yellow in one hand, but had lightning in the other. She waited a moment, then she shocked him with both at the same time.

            She flew back from Vilkas almost a foot, and the jester caught her before she could fall on the ground and hit her head. She stared at my brother, waiting for something to happen. We were all silent, watching Vilkas’ body and praying for a miracle.

            Suddenly, Vilkas gasped and sat up. He didn’t stay up for very long, and he fell over onto the snow as he started to feel pain again.

            “Hold him down!” the girl shouted, and we all crawled toward Vilkas to stop him from moving. Cassius grabbed his feet, and the jester and I both held one of his arms. The girl’s hands both glowed yellow, and they twinkled as she healed Vilkas with a different kind of magic.

            Vilkas writhed in the snow for a minute, but slowly, he calmed down and laid still. I hunched over him, tears falling from my eyes again. “Vilkas, can you hear me?”

            He looked at me, his eyes identical to mine in every way. He nodded, “Aye. I can hear you.” His voice was raspy and weak.

            I pressed my forehead against his. “You were dead, Vilkas. I thought you were gone forever.”

            Vilkas laughed a little. “Kara was right. The Hunting Grounds are absolutely beautiful, Farkas.” I laughed too. I was relieved that he could talk like himself. He looked around at the jester and the girl. “Who are you?”

            She ignored the question, still using the twinkling spell. “How do you feel? Is the pain gone?”

            Vilkas blinked, looking up at the sky. “Suddenly I…I feel much better.”

            The jester rolled his eyes. “Considering you were dead a moment ago, I would imagine you feel ‘much better’.” He mimicked Vilkas’ accent with the last two words. The girl glared at him, and he just shrugged. She stopped her spell, resting back onto the snow. She looked tired, but happy.

            I reached across Vilkas and took her hand. “Thank you.” I said with a smile.

            She just nodded, then watched as Vilkas sat up. Cassius blinked. He looked horrified, like Vilkas was a monster or something. He shook his head after a moment, then he thanked the girl too.

            Vilkas groaned, clutching his arm that was broken to his stomach. The girl put her hand on his shoulder. “The pain will be bad for a few hours, maybe a few days. It will go away.”

            “Aye, it will.” He looked at her, his face was content under new scars. “I cannot thank you enough.”

            As Vilkas spoke, the jester pulled the girl to her feet. “Let’s go, Listener. It’s time to go home.” She nodded to him, then she stared at us a moment longer. The two of them stole off into the woods after that, running quickly away from us.

            Cassius and I helped Vilkas to his feet. As he stood, leaning against me, he looked around at the fire and the destroyed camp.

            “What’s left to do?” Vilkas asked. “Where do you want us, Cassius?”

            Cassius shook his head. “Forget the camp, Vilkas. Forget the war. We’re going home.”

            Vilkas stared at him for a moment, but then he smiled and nodded. “Aye. Home.” With that, Cassius and I _did_ carry Vilkas back to Whiterun. The trip, however, was not as silent as I had thought it would be before.


	32. Moments in Waiting

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aela and Karalissa wait for Cassius and the twins to return home after an unsettling night. Later, Karalissa returns to Breezehome to face whatever fate awaits her.
> 
> POV: Karalissa

            I stood on the steps of Jorrvaskr, looking out at the Wind District and listening to Heimskr screaming about Talos. I smiled to myself, thinking about my own private joke, the one no one else in Whiterun knew. It had been a long time since I’d thought about Marcurio. Honestly, even when we’d gone to Riften to get married, I hadn’t thought of him. The only thought that had been on my mind then was Vilkas.

            And just the same, he was the only thought on my mind now. Usually, I wouldn’t be worried so much about him. I knew he could take care of himself. He was a skilled swordsman and fiery warrior, and even if he couldn’t handle an attacker, the beast within him certainly could. I was normally able to push my thoughts of worry aside, focus on my job, focus on anything else.

            That day, I just couldn’t. Something was wrong, I could feel that in my bones. The beast was unsettlingly quiet, almost as if it weren’t alive under my skin anymore. The wind didn’t ruffle the leaves of the Gildergreen. The sound of children playing in the streets of Whiterun couldn’t be heard. The sun didn’t catch the shine of Talos and dance off of his helmet the way it usually did. Something was wrong. Terribly wrong.

            Muffled footsteps went unnoticed to me until Aela was right beside me. She had a hot cup of coffee in one hand and a tankard of mead in the other. She extended the coffee to me, and I happily took the cup from her. Aela never slept much, but I needed a lot of sleep, and after last night’s bout of insomnia I’d experienced, I needed the caffeine.

            “Thanks for this.” I said to her as I took a long swig from the cup. It was just warm enough to take a mouthful and not burn the entirety of my tongue.

            “No worries.” Aela said, leaning against the pole on the other side of the steps. She looked out at the street too, admiring the withering tree in the center of the courtyard. She took a few chugs of the mead before she turned to me. “Anything new?”

            She meant the previous night, I knew that. In the middle of my sleep, I had jerked awake, a surge of pain and guilt rippling through my chest and stinging my forehead. Uncertain of the nature of what was happening, and honestly worried I was having some sort of health issue, I’d dashed down the hall toward Aela’s room.

            Aela was already in the hall by the time I made it out of the study, clutching her torso just as I was. _“Do you feel it?”_ I’d asked. _“Do you feel it too?”_

            _“Something’s wrong.”_ She’d said, staring at me with wild eyes.

            I shook my head to her, lowering myself to sit on the top step. “Nothing new.”

            “So what’s the part you’re not telling me?” she asked, looking down at me with knowing eyes. I considered, for a moment, lying to her. Just a white lie, just enough to keep her from worrying like I was. I knew I was a bad liar, and I probably wouldn’t get too far into it before crippling and telling her anyway, so I skipped the lie all together.

            “I had a dream a few nights ago. Actually, I wouldn’t call it a dream, since I honestly never dream. I think it was a premonition, but Vilkas insisted it was a nightmare.”

            Aela’s eyebrows crinkled. “What was the premonition?” I relaxed a bit as she subtly acknowledged that she believed me, then I grew twice as worried that it may not be something I wanted to believe.

            “Vilkas died.” I told her, setting the cup of coffee down and rubbing my face with my hands. “I dreamed that he died, and I told him about it, and then he ran off with my brother to fight off an ambush.”

            “Ah.” Aela said, lowering herself to sit beside me. “And you’re worried that it _was_ a premonition. That _that’s_ what we felt last night.”

            Tears sprung to my eyes, and I made a great effort to blink them away. “I should have stopped him, Aela. I should have made him stay.”

            “Don’t do that.” Aela said, putting her hand on my shoulder. “You can’t blame yourself for a decision Vilkas made for himself. He could have stayed, and he didn’t. That’s not on you.”

            Despite my wishes, tears spilled over the edge of my eyelids, catching in my lashes and rolling down my cheeks. “I know, Aela. I just can’t stop feeling that one of them is hurt or—”

            “You’re a smart woman, Lissa, but you feel too much. In situations like this, it’s better to go off of what you know. Consider what you’ve seen with your eyes rather than what you’ve felt. You’re an emotional person, and that’s not usually a bad thing, but in this instance, you have to think more like me.”

            I wiped my left cheek with the back of my hand. “And what do you think?”

            Aela used her thumb to wipe tears from my right cheek. It was the most affection she’d ever directed towards me. She let out a long sigh, looking up at the clouds that loomed overhead. “I don’t know what I think, but I know what I know.” She looked back at me, concern layering against her. “Something has shifted in the moons, sister.”

            She looked up at the sky, admiring the thunderous clouds that rolled across the dark sky, threatening to open up and drench Whiterun in warm rain. “Lissa, I wanted to take some time to talk to you.” she began. “About a lot of things that have been on my mind, recently.”

            I nodded to her. “Is this a Harbinger-confiding sort of talk?”

            Aela thought for a moment. “No, I don’t think so. It’s not easy, I warn you.” She looked back at me. “Let me know when you’re ready, because when I start, I won’t stop.”

            I felt my brow furrow, not exactly sure where this conversation would lead. I nodded anyway. “Go ahead.”

            Aela took a breath. “You’ve become weak.”

            I jerked my head back, actually offended by the adjective she’d chosen. “I’m sorry?”

            “Hear me out.” Aela said, looking back out at the streets of Whiterun. “You’ve become weak, and I think I have to take some of the blame for that.”

            “Aela, I don’t—”

            “I said hear me out, Lissa.” She took another breath. “When I met you on that farm a year ago, you were ruthless. Every single member of the Companions challenged your ability, thought you weren’t a warrior or you were just some pretty broad, and you proved them wrong in every sense of the word. I watched you kill that giant, I listened about your mission to threaten that priest, and I stood with the Circle and pledged testament and loyalty to you as a Companion.

            “And then, I convinced Skjor to let me change you, to give you the blood. He didn’t want to do it, if I’m being completely honest with you. He thought you were too young. We changed Vilkas and Farkas when they were only eighteen, and we watched Vilkas struggle with trusting him own strength and will. Then eight years passed, and I saw how graceful you were in battle. You were destined to hunt, a huntress just the same as me, and I got excited. Excited at the idea of having a sister in the hunt.

            “After we returned home, in the weeks that passed after Gallows Rock, I saw a change in you. You were cautious and timid, and I thought it was because of the blood. Being moon-born is a challenge, and I thought you were struggling to control yourself. I thought you were just a young girl who was fighting off of the urge to kill and feelings for that emotional lug you’re married to now.

            “After Kodlak died, and after you and I cleansed his soul, you thought Farkas and I were asleep in the fields outside of Whiterun. Honestly, I think Farkas may have been, but I wasn’t. I listened to you talking to Vilkas about how you thought he was angry with you, how you believed that Kodlak’s death was your fault. That you believed Skjor’s death was your fault. Do you still? Blame yourself, I mean.”

            I stared at Aela, shocked at both the fact that she was saying all of this now and that we’d never actually discussed this. She looked back at me, waiting for me to say something.

            “I do. I still blame myself.” My voice was a nearly inaudible whisper.

            Aela nodded. “I thought so.” She looked away from me again, which seemed to be easier for her. “I’m not usually someone who expresses any emotions other than anger or indifference, especially since Skjor died. I loved him, Lissa, with all of my being, and knowing he’s just gone is too much sometimes. I dealt with the anger, the heartbreak I felt in horrible ways, from beating the hell out of Njada to holing myself in my room, and then to blaming you.” My heart wrenched as she said it, confirming everything I’d ever thought about the situation.

            “Don’t stop hearing me.” She said, looking over her shoulder at me. “When it was fresh, the wound Skjor left, it was easier to blame anyone but myself. It wasn’t just you, Lissa. I blamed Farkas and Vilkas and even Kodlak, but no one more than I blamed you. I kept telling myself that if you hadn’t come to Whiterun, if you hadn’t gone to the farm, I may not have even wanted to change you. I wouldn’t have convinced Skjor. I wouldn’t have lost him.

            “But that’s not true, Lissa. It wasn’t your fault. He died because I let him go by himself. I don’t know if I ever told you, but when you were lying unconscious in the snow after your first transformation, Skjor had devised a plan to finish off most of the Silver Hand, make it look like you’d come through the place and cleaned house. Make you feel good. And I let him go by himself, without a Shield-Sibling. I was so stupidly in love with him, I would do anything to let him get his kick, and that’s what he wanted.”

            She shook her head, laughing only slightly. “I joined the Companions nearly twelve years ago, and I loved him from the moment I met him. He was snarky and rude and incredibly feministic if you peeled back a few layers. Skjor was passionate about three things, Lissa: the Blood of Hircine, our…I don’t know, secret love affair, and the Companions.” She turned to face me. “Skjor would be proud of you. You stepped up to a group of people who you’d only known a few months and took on the role of a leader. You’re barely twenty-two years old, eight years my younger but in so many ways my elder.

            “You’re smart, Lissa, smart as hell, and you’re an impressive warrior. I want you to know that if you feel like Skjor’s death is your fault, you’re wrong. He’s dead, gone and off in some field watching over us, and he wouldn’t want you to feel like that. I don’t want you to feel like that either. I’m sorry that you did, and that we never talked about this before just now.”

            I sat for a moment, looking out at the dying tree in the center of Whiterun. “I appreciate that Aela, all you’ve said. I’m sorry too, that we hadn’t talked, and I’m sorry that you think I’ve become weak.” I looked back at her. “I spend a lot of days wondering about destiny and fate. I know this is all how it was supposed to happen deep down, that I arrived just before Kodlak was supposed to die because I was destined to take his place. But there’s still a part of me, a small voice in the back of my mind, insisting that if I’d never come here, maybe things would be different. Maybe Skjor would have lived, maybe Kodlak would have too. It hurts my heart to think about all of the pain I’ve caused, all of the anger that’s still directed toward me. It cripples my strength.

            “That being said, though, I think you’re wrong. I don’t think I’ve become weak. If anything, I’ve become stronger from having no choice but to play the role of Harbinger with indifferent concern. To be seen as the ‘leader’ of the Companions, regardless of whether or not it’s true, is an incredibly difficult task, especially when you know there are whispers in the hall of your supposed lack of qualification. And there are, along with whispers that I rose to leadership by _sleeping_ with _Vilkas_ , by playing Kodlak’s ear. I think that having to pretend that I don’t hear it, to train with and advise the very people who don’t trust my judgement in the first place makes me one hundred times stronger than I was a year ago.

            “And Aela, it’s not your fault Skjor died either. The fates have a plan for everyone, a set of instructions that come with your birth and aren’t completed until you die. There’s no stopping in the middle to start a different project. There is no changing the rules. There is no modifying the instructions, not even slightly. Everything happens for a reason, and everyone who died was meant to. It sounds harsh, even to my own ears, because I know that our fates overlapped. They had to die so I could fulfill my destiny.”

            Aela nodded. “I agree with that. It doesn’t make it hurt any less, though.”

            “I know.” I said to her.

            Aela put her hand on my shoulder. “And what if the fates intended for Vilkas to die before you’d been married to him for more than three months?”

            Pain rippled in my chest at the thought, but I answered anyway. “Then I would curse the fates, but eventually accept them, no matter how much it hurt. And by the Nine, I would expect him to do the same.”

            Aela nodded. “You’re right, I am wrong. You haven’t become weak.” And then, her head snapped towards Whiterun, directing her gaze to the gate. She inhaled deeply. “They’re back.”

            I inhaled too, my lungs filling with the scent of mead and dead lizard, meaning my brother had reentered the city. I felt relieved for only a moment, then I only recognized the scent of one wolf twin dancing through the air, the blood of the more light-hearted of the two. His spirit was darkened though, and denial was the only thing I felt.

            I felt Aela’s hand in mine as we sat on the steps, waiting to see the evidence with our eyes, as Aela had recommended earlier. We hardly breathed, unsettlingly still as we waited for them to emerge from the steps that lead to the Winds District.

            Slowly, Cassius and Farkas came into view, and I felt Aela’s heart sink. No, it wasn’t right. He was here somewhere, he had to be. He’d fallen behind, or he’d lingered at the gate. He was always distracted by that drunkard in the market stalls, he always tossed him a few septims. I tried every excuse I could think of, and then I saw the blood on Farkas’ hands and forehead. Saw the look of heartbreak on his face. Saw the way my brother was looking at me, like he had to tell me the world was crumbling beneath the feet I stood on.

            And then, it blossomed in my chest, complete and utter pain as I acknowledged that Vilkas was not with them, and that meant he hadn’t returned. I clutched my chest, my mouth falling open and my eyes burning as I stared at the two large Nords with death in their eyes.

            I grit my teeth, shutting my eyes and rolling my head back as I decided to just let the pain take me. Aela put her arm around my shoulders, willing me to stand and fight, but I couldn’t. I collapsed into her shoulder, harsh sobs forming in my chest and threatening to become known to others just as the tears spilling from my closed eyes already had.

            Aela stood, and I dropped my head to my knees, unable to keep my torso upright. I gripped the back of my neck with interlocked fingers, trying to force myself to feel anything other than the pain. Within me, the beast was becoming overwhelmed, and I began to shake uncontrollably.

            Beyond the beast’s cackle building in my weakened chest, I heard Aela’s voice. “Is he dead?”

            I wasn’t looking at Farkas or Cassius, but I counted the fourteen seconds of silence that followed Aela’s question. To the beast, it was confirmation, and it snarled beneath my skin. I felt my neck snap to the side beneath my fingers, a low growl escaping my lips.

            I felt a large hand on my shoulder. “Lissa, you have to listen to us, okay?”

            I looked up at Farkas through the blinding tears, and I spoke through a locked jaw. “Is Vilkas dead?”

            He shook his head. “No. Vilkas is alive.”

            The pain subsided momentarily, the beast quieting as I looked between my best friend and my brother. “Where is he?”

            Cassius stepped up to me, taking a seat beside me. “Breezehome.”

            “We couldn’t catch his scent.” Aela said to Farkas, her eyes as confused as mine.

            “You need to listen to us before you go to him, Karalissa.” Cassius said to me, his hand on my shoulder to keep me in my seat. “He’s not dead, but he did die.”

            I shook my head. “I don’t understand.”

            “We’ll explain everything to you, but you need to hear it before you see him.” Cassius said, his eyes locked with mine.

            At my continued confusion, Farkas leaned down to me. “He was in the Hunting Grounds, Lissa. He was gone, and then he was back. He’s broken. Badly. He needs to rest, but you need to know.”

            I relaxed slightly, then immediately tensed again. I looked at Aela, who stared back with knowing eyes. It had been real. I had been right.

            I turned back to my brother. “Tell me.”

 

            I unlocked the door to Breezehome, my home, trying to remain quiet for a reason unknown to me. I knew Vilkas was here, and he knew I was coming, but something told me to behave as if I were a guest.

            I had walked back to my home in silence, no company but my own thoughts about what they had told me, what had happened to him. They told me what they saw, that he was killed and some sort of healer brought him back from the dead. Farkas warned me that his arm was injured, and he couldn’t move it much. Cassius had warned me that his face had taken a great deal of damage. Aela warned me that he was fragile right now. I warned myself not to tackle him and crush him in my arms.

            I shut the door behind me, turning the lock and then facing the main room. I pulled my bow off of my shoulders, setting it on the table next to the front door and walking toward the stairs.

            Climbing the steps slowly, I remained as quiet as I could manage. I crept down the hall after I reached the top step, heading toward our bedroom door. I pressed my ear to the door first, for whatever reason, and listened for any sort of indication that he was actually in there. It was silent, so I pushed the door open.

            Inside, Vilkas sat on the edge of our bed, his armor off of his chest and one arm out of his long sleeve shirt that was torn down the middle, and his eyes on the floor. He looked up at me as I entered, and the moment I saw his face, it took all of my strength not to gasp aloud.

He had a long, dark scar that started at the left side of his forehead at his hairline, and stretched across his nose and stopped in the middle of his right cheek. I knew it was fresh, made evident by the dried blood on his face, but it looked like it had healed years ago. His right arm was cradled against his chest, the pain in his eyes evident as he stared at me.

            I couldn’t stop myself, and I walked toward him quickly, sitting beside him and throwing my arms around his neck. I held him tightly for a moment before he made a grunting sound, and I yanked away from him. Worried I had hurt him, I put my hand against his cheek. “I’m sorry.” I told him.

            Vilkas reached toward my face with his right hand, connected to the arm that wasn’t in his armor. He placed it on the back of my neck, pulling my face close and pressing his lips against mine. As we kissed, I felt tears rolling from his eyes and coating my cheeks.

            He pulled away from me, running his fingertips over my eyes and my nose and my lips. He laughed a little, smiling through the obvious pain he was in. “I thought I wasn’t going to see you again.” He put his hand against my cheek. “You were right, Kara. I’m so sorry I left you—”

            I shushed him, running my hand through his dirty, tangled hair. “It doesn’t matter. It’s over.” I pushed his hair away from his face, behind his ear, and exposed another scar that stretched from his right cheekbone, across, and to the very edge of his ear.

            I pulled away from him, looking down at his arm pressed against his chest. I hovered my hand over it, not wanting to touch him but unable to see the damage through his sleeve. “Is the pain bad?”

            Vilkas shook his head, his jaw clenched. “It’s not that bad.” I placed my hand on his forearm, and he flinched away. I raised an eyebrow at him, my lips pursed as I waited for an admission. Vilkas blinked at me, then he nodded. “Aye. It’s bad.”

            I stood from our bed, leaving our room and walking downstairs to retrieve a bowl of water and a rag. When I walked back up the stairs, Vilkas was struggling to take his shirt off. I waited, watching him with a little smirk. It faded, though, as I watched him in pain. He looked up at me, the shirt almost over his head.

            “It’s stuck.” he said, sort of laughing to himself. I set the bowl and rag down on the dresser and walked toward him. I helped him stand, pulling his shirt over his head and carefully removing it from his injured arm.

            Beneath the shirt, his entire arm was a cluster of black and blue bruises with hardly any unmarked skin visible, a galaxy pattern of blossoming pain at the slightest touch. I looked at his exposed torso, a long and jagged scar running about seven inches long just left of his belly button. I ran my fingertips over the raised pink flesh, and Vilkas shivered under my touch.

            I shook my head, trying to make sense of everything Farkas and Cassius had explained to me. “A big blade, then?” I asked him, guiding him back to the edge of the bed.

            “Aye.” he mumbled. “I guess it was.”

            As he sat, I took the items I’d brought back to our room from the dresser and returned to him, pulling up a chair and dragging the side table toward me so I could set the bowl down. I sat in the chair across from him, dipping the rag in the water and holding his chin between my thumb and index fingers. I wiped the blood off of his face as gently as I could, trying to avoid his scars.

            He watched my eyes as I cleaned his face, gray pools of curiosity and regret staring back at me. It was quiet for a long time as I wiped the crimson away from his face, taking war paint off with the rag as I went along. When I reached the scar on the side of his face, I used caution not to irritate it.

            “It doesn’t hurt.” he said, startling me. When I looked up at him, he tapped the scar that my rag was next to. “It doesn’t hurt. You don’t have to be so careful.”

            “Oh. Okay.” I said, running the cloth over the new, and yet old, scar. Once the right side of his face was clean, I moved onto the scar that dominated his face now, stretching diagonally across the entirety of him.

            As I removed the last of the blood, I pushed his hair away from his face again and planted a soft kiss on the tip of his nose. He was being unsettlingly quiet. Usually when it was just the two of us, he never stopped talking or commenting on what I was doing. The last time I’d cleaned his face, so many months ago in the river outside of that fort, there had been much more conversation.

            I walked the bowl and rag back to the dresser, setting it down and rummaging through the drawers for some comfortable clothes for Vilkas.

            “Skjor said I hurt you, when I left you at your brother’s house.” My back stiffened as he spoke, the name sending shivers down my spine. I turned back to him, staring in confusion. “He said it hurt you more than you’d been hurt in a long time. Is that true?”

            I didn’t know what to say to him. It had hurt. A lot. It felt like he picked the war over me, which I knew was a selfish accusation and one I would never say out loud, but that wasn’t what had hurt. What hurt was that he didn’t believe me, about the premonition. Regardless, that didn’t mean I wanted him to know that.

            He stared back at me, his gray eyes seeking an answer that I didn’t want to give. I leaned against the dresser, folding my arms and crossing one of my legs over the other. I just nodded.

            He nodded too, looking down at his feet. “I’m sorry, Kara. I’ve never felt so guilty for something in my whole life.”

            I blinked at him, astonished at what he was saying. “Vilkas, you died. Why are you apologizing to me?” I uncrossed my legs, then crossed them again. “I should be the one apologizing. I’m sorry I let you leave, let you walk into death.”

            Vilkas looked back up at me. “Skjor also said that you don’t feel like you belong. Is that true too?”

            I shrugged. “I guess I’ve always felt like that.”

            “You _do_ belong.” he mumbled to me. “How can there be so much I don’t know about you?”

            I pushed myself off of the dresser, walking back to my chair with his clothes in my arms and sitting down across from him. “Do you want to talk about it? The Hunting Grounds?”

            Vilkas was silent for a moment, looking down at the ground instead of at me. Then, he shook his head, laughing to himself. “The sky was beautiful.”

            I nodded. “It was.”

            “It wasn’t how I imagined it would be.” he began. “There were no wolves, no blood, no carnage. Just Skjor, waiting for me in a field.”

            “He was alone?”

            “Aye. He’s waiting for the rest of us.” Vilkas shook his head. “We just talked a while, and then he sent me back.” He smiled. “It was good to see him.”

            “That’s good.” I said, smiling back to him.

            “I wish I told him all of the things I wanted to tell him. I was too wrapped up in what was happening.” I waited for him to explain. “When I…died…I had these visions. Things that had already happened. Things I’d forgotten about from the past, and that I’d forgotten about myself. On our way back to Whiterun, I was thinking about all of the things you don’t know about me, the things I don’t know about you. But I want to know everything. I want us to know everything.”

            I touched his cheek. “I do too.”

            Vilkas sighed. “I was…reminded of the reason Njada acts crudely toward you.”

            “What is it?”

            “There was…well, we—uh.” Vilkas stammered, rubbing the back of his neck.

            I sat back in my chair, my eyebrows raised. “Oh.”

            “Aye.” he said, nodding. “When Kodlak told us that he had the Rot, I had been…I don’t know, depressed? One evening, I’d been training with Njada in the courtyard. She’d just joined the Companions, and she was fiery and angry and eager to learn. When night fell, I’d made mention that I was going to the Mare for a drink, and she asked to come along.

            “Too much to drink for both of us, I think. I was reeling, drowning in sadness from the moment I was told Kodlak would die within a few years. I hadn’t been eating or sleeping much, just training with Njada to keep my mind off of it. She’d developed a bit of a school-girl crush on me. Nothing I couldn’t distance myself from, but there just the same.

            “We drank and told stories about battles we’d been in and animals we’d killed. One thing led to another, and we’d kissed in the bar.” He shook his head. “I’ve never been the twin who women chase after. The women in town always liked Farkas. He’s always been taller and more muscular and more charming. I guess it was just nice to feel…wanted.

            “We snuck out together for a little less than a week, sitting in the courtyard and talking and well, snogging, for lack of a better word. But she wanted more than that, and I just wanted to feel something other than sadness. She cried when I told her that I didn’t want to be with her. I didn’t want to hurt her, but I couldn’t lead her on, you know? I think that’s why she dislikes you now. She thinks I’ve done the same to you, but she can’t understand why I want to be with you. And there’s no way to explain it to her. She’s just not what I wanted, and you are everything I’ve ever wanted.”

            I sighed, leaning toward him. “Maybe she just need to hear that from you. Not exactly like that, but an apology nonetheless.”

            “Are you angry with me?” he asked, looking up at me.

            I shook my head. “Of course not. I understand that feeling, needing to feel wanted. I did nearly the same thing when I thought my brother was dead.”

            “The wizard?” he asked.

            I laughed. “Yes, the wizard. Marcurio.” I handed him the clothes I was holding for him, and he changed out of the skirt of his armor while I spoke. “My brother and I had lived in the woods for a year before Helgen, and after, I just wanted to feel comforted and safe and warm, so I went to the Bee and Barb. I was hurting, and I spent the nights of my first week there getting piss-drunk and, for lack of a better word, _snogging_ thieves that were as drunk as I was.” Vilkas smirked as I used the same poorly-worded, yet incredibly explanatory, phrase he just had.

            “After that week, the mercenary that lives at the Barb starting teasing me for it. He annoyed me, but I had no choice other than to tolerate it if I wanted to keep my job at the place.”

            Vilkas sat back down on the bed, wearing only pants I’d given him. He didn’t bother with the shirt, not wanting to struggle to get his arm through the sleeve, I assumed. He raised an eyebrow. “You were a tavern maid?”

            “Gods, no!” I said, scowling at him in a way that he seemed to fine funny. “I went out hunting and brought back the pelts for Talen-Jei. He used them to make sleeping furs and cut me pretty good deal on rent.”

            He grinned crookedly at me. “You’d make a pretty tavern maid.” I tried to look disgusted at the idea, but Vilkas laughed as I blushed.

            I shook my head, standing from my chair as I continued. “Marcurio was sarcastic and picked on me most of the time, and honestly, he thought my name was Karla for the first month of my living there. I finally snapped at him, corrected him about my name and I’m pretty sure I called him an ‘Imperial, milk-drinking piece of trash’, and after that we were very good friends.”

            Vilkas laughed at that, and I smiled to myself at the sound. He very rarely laughed like that, without holding anything back. It was nice to hear, and it was very difficult not to laugh along with him. I pulled a loose linen wrap from the chest in the corner and walked back to the bed. I crawled across the blanket to him, standing on my knees behind him to wrap his injured arm in a sling.

            “We were a little romantic with each other. Marcurio and I were both very similar people, social when we needed to be, but we both preferred solitude. So we just spent our time alone together, running errands for Talen-Jei and I took him hunting with me every once in a while.

            “I just wanted the companionship. I was tired of being along, and he wanted to spend all of his time with me. Marcurio wanted more than friendship, though, and I just didn’t. I tried to be with him, sweethearts of sorts, but it just didn’t…feel right. I finally rejected him, and he started drinking, and then he wasn’t himself. That’s actually most of the reason I left Riften.”

            I tied Vilkas’ sling in a knot above his shoulder, then wrapped my arms around his neck and rested my chin on top of his head. “I feel bad about it. Not for leaving, of course, but for the way I did it.”

            Vilkas put his hand over mine. “Didn’t you explain when he came to Jorrvaskr?”

            “No.” I said. “He was all worked up about how you acted toward him. He actually came to Jorrvaskr trying to convince me to come back to Riften with him, but I told him I couldn’t, that I had an obligation to the Companions. That’s true enough, I just didn’t have the heart to tell him I’d fallen in love with you, and there was no way I was leaving you.”

            Vilkas grunted. “Well, I’m glad you didn’t tell me that, actually. I may have hurt the man.”

            I smirked. “Tell him that I was in love with you? And here I thought it was obvious to everyone but you.”

            “Easy there.” he said gruffly, but I could hear the smile in his voice. He let out a long yawn, his jaw popping as it stretched.

            “You should sleep, Villy.” I said to him, running my fingers through the hair on the top of his head. “You’ve had a very long and…very eventful few days.”

            He shook his head. “I don’t want to sleep. I want to talk to you.”

            I laughed a little. “We have the rest of our lives to talk, Vilkas. Tonight, we can sleep.” Vilkas turned his head toward me, and I smiled as I placed a soft kiss on his lips. As that kiss ended, I went to pull away from him, but his hand caught the back of my neck, pulling me back to him for another kiss. This time was stronger, more passionate.

            When Vilkas and I separated, he kissed my cheek, then the side of my jaw, then my ear. He buried his face into the nape of my neck, wrapping his arm around the small of my back to hold me against him as tightly as he could. His breath hot against my neck as he whispered. “I don’t know if I can sleep, Kara. I keep dreaming about that woman. The one from the woods.”

            Cassius had called her a witch when they’d explained what happened to me, a witch with a pet clown. Farkas had called her an angel, two kind strangers sent by the gods to save his brother. I wasn’t sure what to think about it, but I hadn’t been there to judge the situation for myself.

            I lifted Vilkas’ face to look at me. “Good dreams or bad dreams?”

            He shook his head. “I haven’t decided yet.”

            I sighed, nodding as I brushed his hair away from his face again. “Do you want to talk about them?”

            “No.” Vilkas said. “And I don’t want to talk about dying.”

            “Okay.” I said, nodding in reassurance.

            Vilkas laid back on the bed, resting his head on the pillow behind him. I stood from the bed, pulling off my cloth boots and unbuckling my leather armor. I walked to the dresser, pulling some of my comfortable sleeping pants out of the drawer and over my legs. I rummaged through the drawers for one of my shirts, but I couldn’t find any.

            “Just wear a dirty one.” Vilkas said behind me. I looked over my shoulder at him, mocking disgust.

            “I’m not getting in our clean bed in a dirty shirt.”

            “Wear one of mine.”

            I groaned. “All of yours are scratchy.”

            Vilkas raised an eyebrow. “Don’t wear one at all.” A sly grin crept across his face.

            I smirked too, rolling my eyes. “It’s too cold.”

            “You’re impossible.” he said, laughing to himself. Then he tossed the shirt I’d given him earlier to me, and I caught it in the air. “That one’s not scratchy.”

            I felt the material, making sure that was true, then pulled the shirt over my head. After walking around the bed to my side, I crawled beneath the sheets and snuggled up to Vilkas, ready to fall asleep and forget this day had happened. I wanted to hold him and be held by him and forget that not more than a few hours earlier, I’d been certain that my husband was dead. He wrapped his arm around my torso, pressing his face into my hair.

            “Tell me more.”

            I sighed, turning over and facing him. “You’re not even going to try to sleep?”

            Vilkas laughed. “It’s not even the afternoon yet.”

            My brow furrowed as I realized that he was right. Staying awake after the disruption in the middle of the night had thrown me off of the accurate pacing of time.

            “Fine.” I said, pressing my forehead against his chin. “What do you want me to tell you?”

            “Tell me something about when you were young.” he said, his arm snaking around my waist to pull me closer to him.

            I thought for a moment. “When we were at the Bard’s College, there was a party before a big performance, which was happening the next morning. The lead in the performance was one of Cassius’ enemies, a boy who’d been sweet on one the girls he’d liked. So at the party, we added two whole bottles of Firebrand Wine to the punch bowl.” I laughed to myself, remembering how the students and teachers had all staggered around and tripped over each other. “The boy was so hungover the next morning, he vomited in the middle of his performance.”

            Vilkas laughed loudly. “That’s terrible.”

            “We were very rarely well-behaved.” I shut my eyes. “Your turn.”

            “I beat the hell out of Jon Battle-Born once for making fun of Farkas. Nearly broke his nose.” He exhaled sharply. “Should have broken it, now that I think about it. Your turn.”

            I breathed deeply, trying to think of something he didn’t know. “I don’t know what my father looked like. I don’t even have an idea of what he could have looked like. Cassius and I both look like Ma.”

            Vilkas grumbled. “Aye. Farkas and I both look like Jergen. Dark complexion and slate gray eyes. I don’t remember ever thinking Jergen was handsome. My mother was absolutely beautiful though.”

            “You’re beautiful too, Villy.”

            He laughed quietly, squeezing me tightly for a moment. “Not like she was.”

            “I used to climb the walls of Solitude with my brother, trying to find a hiding place from Sorex. He followed us around all the time, and once he tried to kiss me, and my brother shoved him. So we tried to find a spot where he wouldn’t find us.”

            “All of the girls in Whiterun liked Farkas when we were growing up. Once, I told one of them that he had diarrhea so they’d stop following us. Farkas didn’t even mind.”

            I laughed at that one. “My favorite color has always been green. Solitude didn’t really have real trees, and I loved the leaves when I could see them.”

            “Mm,” Vilkas mumbled. “My favorite color used to be yellow, but now it’s brown.”

            “Brown?” I asked, snorting at the thought. “Why brown? That’s such a boring color.”

            “It’s the color of your eyes.” he said, placing a kiss on my forehead.

            I yawned, draping my arm across his chest. “One time, I got in trouble with Viarmo for humming too loudly. Said I was irritating him and sent me to bed without supper.”

            “I hid all of Skjor’s underwear from him once. He thought he was losing his mind.” I couldn’t contain a laugh, and neither could Vilkas. “I don’t think he ever found out.”

            “I like that one.” I told him, closing my eyes again.

            Vilkas exhaled in soft laughter, then brushed his lips against my forehead again. “Go to sleep, pup. We have the rest of our lives to talk, just like you said.”

            “Okay.” I whispered to him, feeling myself drift into slumber whether he wanted me to or not.

            As I faded into the onyx waves of sleep that were already lapping at my mind, I whispered to him again. “Vilkas?”

            “Kara?”

            “I love you.”

            I felt him smile against my forehead. “I love you too, pup.”

            And then, just as quickly as I’d been yanked away from it that morning, I descended again into the blissful, silent dark of sleep. No dreams. No nightmares. No premonitions.

            Just sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello lads and lassies!  
> This fic is nearing completion, and I'm sad to say that this chapter and the chapter that will follow will be the last we see of the Companions in this book.   
> Sorry if I made you all think Villy was really dead! He's one of my very favorite characters, and I'm as glad that he's back as you are.
> 
> As always, thanks for reading and leaving feedback. It very gratifying to know that there are some people out there who actually enjoy what I'm writing, and I'm incredibly grateful.   
> Also, if you're interested, there is a deviant art page that has done some Vilkalissa and Circle fanart, and that's really amazing to see, especially since it's, like, really incredible artwork.   
> http://devitameatball.deviantart.com/


	33. A Moment of Trial

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aela takes Codus on a mission to test his worth and determine whether or not he belongs with the Companions.
> 
> POV: Aela the Huntress

            “You sure about this?” Farkas mumbled from where he sat in the corner of my room. I looked over my shoulder at him, an eyebrow raised as I shoved a few more things into my pack.

            “Very sure.” I responded. “I’ve been wanting to do this for a while, and it’s the perfect opportunity to test the whelp. Besides, Lissa approved, and that’s good enough for me.”

            Farkas sighed. “But are you sure you don’t want me to come with you? It’s a long trip, and he’s just a whelp. Don’t want you getting yourself hurt.”

            “The only person you should be worried about is Codus. Have you met me?”

            With a laugh, Farkas shook his head. “I have met you, Aela. That’s exactly why I don’t want you getting hurt.”

            I rolled my eyes. “The boy needs more of a test than the work I’ve been giving him. All we’re doing is fetching a Totem. That’s it.”

            “You make it sound like it’s not more than that. Vilkas said there were vampires.”

            I laughed. “I’m not afraid of a vampire.”

            “ _Vampires_ , Aela. More than one.”

            “I’m not afraid of vampires, either.” I buckled my pack, tossing it over my shoulder. “Two days of travel, a few hours of fight, and two days of travel home. No big deal.”

            Farkas sighed again. “Well, if you’re sure.”

            I walked toward him, kissing him quickly on the lips when I reached him. “Stop worrying. Hircine is on my side.”

            “I know.” he said, putting his hand on my leg. “Just come back, okay?”

            “Okay.” I said, patting his head and striding from the room.

            Shutting the door behind me, I walked down the hall to Lissa’s study, where I assumed she would be. It was early, and she usually woke before everyone else and walked back to Jorrvaskr from her home. I gave the door a quick knock, then leaned against the frame.

            The door opened rather abruptly, and Vilkas loomed in the frame. He gripped the top of the door frame, leaning out toward me with that stupid scowl on his face.

            “Morning, huntress.”

            “Morning, scar-face.” I responded with a raised eyebrow.

            Vilkas smirked, stepping aside to let me in. Lissa sat on top of her desk in the corner, scribbling something on some paper, using a thick book to press against. She looked up at me, her eyes tired and her hair dirty.

            “You look gross.” I said to her, tossing my pack on the ground and leaning against the bookshelf next to her.

            Lissa frowned. “I do not.”

            “Do too.” I said, reaching out to ruffle her greasy hair. “Looks like you haven’t washed in a minute or two.”

            “Do I really?” Lissa asked, her eyes growing wide.

            “Yup. And you smell.”

            Vilkas rolled his eyes. “No you don’t, Kara. She’s teasing you.”

            Lissa narrowed her eyes at me, setting her paper down and pulling her hair into a ponytail. “Better be careful, Aela. I might decide to send Torvar with you and Codus, since he’s the Recruitment Advisor.”

            I laughed. “That’s not a real thing.”

            She nudged some papers toward me with her foot, looping her hair in the elastic again and again. I looked down at the sheets, reading the first page.

 

NOTICE OF PROMOTION

It is with an incredible amount of pride and consideration that Karalissa Felstead, Harbinger of the Companions, moves to promote Torvar of the Companions to Recruitment Advisor.

Torvar has been chosen for this position after careful evaluation of his skills over several months. Torvar shows undeniable compassion to recruits and fellow Companions, as well as the leadership skills necessary to strive in such a role.

Duties of Recruitment Advisor include training new recruits, assigning tasks for initiates, and preparing potential additions to the Companions to train under the Master at Arms. In addition, the Recruitment Advisor will attend weekly meetings with the Harbinger to discuss the progress and evaluations of recruits.

Congratulations and thanks are extended from The Companions, the Jarl of Whiterun, and the citizens of Whiterun hold.

Harbinger: Karalissa Felstead

Master at Arms: Vilkas

Jarl of Whiterun: Vignar Gray-Mane

 

            I groaned. “Lissa, this is way to official for a fake promotion. Why the hell did you get Vignar to sign it?”

            Lissa shrugged. “Seemed fitting.”

            I rolled my eyes again. “Lissa, you look exhausted. Why are you wasting your time with the paperwork?”

            “It’s not wasting my time.” she said, leaning back against the wall. “It makes it official, and Torvar will feel important and accomplished. Plus, I like signing things.”

            I turned to Vilkas. “You need to get her out of here. Signing things should not be fun for her.” Vilkas and Lissa laughed, but I was dead serious. “Not joking. Go on a vacation. Travel. Swim. Adventure. I don’t care what you two do, but get out of Whiterun.”

            Lissa shook her head at me. “Aela, we can’t just leave you all. We have responsibilities to—”

            “It’s not a negotiation, Lissa. Farkas and I can hold down the fort for a few weeks, and if you don’t trust that, get Eorland or Brill or Vignar down here. But I’m serious, you two have been through a fair share of shit this year and need to get away. You didn’t even honeymoon.” I gripped Lissa’s face with my hands, squeezing her cheeks together. “You’re too young to be an old woman who likes to sign things. Go out with your husband and see Skyrim before I lose you to knitting and baking pies and wearing ratty dresses with those gods-awful aprons.”

            “Okay, okay.” Lissa said, swatting my hands away from her face. She looked at Vilkas. “Maybe we do need a vacation, Villy. Things are sane around here right now. We could leave after we induct Codus…”

            “Yeah, Villy.” I said, mocking Lissa’s voice. “Take her on an adventure before you die again.”

            Vilkas scowled, and I knew he would have crossed his arms if his right one wasn’t in that sling. “When did I become ‘Villy’?”

            I raised an eyebrow. “I think it suits you.”

            “Well, knock it off. My name is Vilkas, and unless you’re the Harbinger of the Companions, you’ll call me that.” he smirked at me, adding a lightness to the demand, but making sure his point was across. When I shrugged, he turned back to Lissa. “Travel might do us some good, pup. I like the sound of that.”

            “Great!” I exclaimed, patting Lissa on the back. “Then it’s settled: you two will leave when Codus and I return.”

            Vilkas and Lissa exchanged a look, a smile, a shrug, and then they both looked at me. “Aye.” Vilkas said. “We’ll leave when you return.”

            A knock on the door came immediately after Vilkas spoke. “Right on time.” I said, pointing to the door. Vilkas grimaced at my silent command, but opened it anyway.

            Codus entered the study, wearing hide armor and boots. His hand was resting on the handle of his new sword, ready to be drawn at any second.

            “Don’t pull that thing out in here, whelp.” Vilkas said, scowling at the young Imperial. He laughed awkwardly, rubbing the back of his neck and avoiding eye contact with the burly, scarred Nord that stared down at him in disapproval.

            Lissa slid off of the table and put her hand on my shoulder. “You two are heading out, then.”

            “Yes, Harbinger.” Codus said, straightening his back as Lissa spoke. 

            “Good.” she said, nodding to both of us. “Represent us well and bring back that artifact for the library.” Lissa gave me a side-eyed glance. We hadn’t mentioned to Codus that what we were actually retrieving was a Totem of Hircine, but he didn’t really need to know that. His test was getting to the Totem, not studying it.

            “Of course, Harbinger.” he said, then shifted from foot to foot uncomfortably.

            I sighed. “We’ll be back no later than five days from now, sister.” I said to Lissa, who only nodded as Codus and I left the study.

            We walked down the hallway, and I turned back to look at the Imperial that followed me. “Hope you packed light, whelp, because we’re walking.”

            He smiled crookedly at me. “A nice stroll through Skyrim could do us good, ma’am.” It was funny. I hadn't actually had a conversation with the kid before. He had an interesting accent, skipping certain consonants and rolling his 'r's. 

            “Gross.” I said. “Call me Aela.”

            “Okay, Aela.”

           

            Codus and I both stared, wide-eyed and open mouthed, as a statue came to life before our eyes. We backed away slowly, turning a corner to the room we’d just come through and crouching behind a few barrels.

            “What the hell is that thing?” I asked, not directly to him, but to anyone listening.

            “It’s a gargoyle.” Codus said, shaking his head. “I read about them a few years ago, when I was doing research on vampires for…well, that’s not important. What is important is we sever the head. It’s stone, and hard to cut through, but we can do it if we devise a plan.”

            This kid was impressing the hell out of me. Three days ago, he was some bumbling idiot who didn’t lift a blade or a tankard of mead. Now, he was displaying that he _was_ a warrior.

            From the moment we’d stepped through the doors of Bloodlet Throne, Codus hadn’t missed a second. I didn’t know if he’d really hyped himself up for this mission or if he was actually good in battle, but either way, his vast knowledge of vampires was proving to be useful.

            Useful, especially since Farkas had been right. I had anticipated three or four vampires to be waiting for us, but we were greeted by several dozen spread throughout the fort. I knew how to fight vampires, of course, and I’d brawled with a vast amount of them before that night, but not having to explain what was happening or guide Codus in any way was making this assignment a lot easier.

            I poked my head around the corner, trying to catch a glance of the stone beast that was lurking around the room ahead of us. The gray monster had wings that flapped like they weren’t made of solid material, and they wiggled as he bent over two fallen vampire fledglings that Codus and I had just picked off.

            I scanned the room for vantage points, noting barrels and ramps that had the potential to be of some use. I turned back to Codus.

            “Alright, do you want to distract or act?”

            He smirked. “This is a test, and I want to be a Companion. I’ll act.”

            I grinned at the kid, swelling with pride at the words. I liked him, I decided just then. I nodded, then moved so Codus could peer around the side of the barrels and see the room beyond us.

            “See that ramp?” I asked, and Codus nodded. “Alright. If we have to sever the head from that freaky block of cement, then you’ll have to get up pretty high. I’ll lure the gargoyle closer to that ramp, and you can use the height to kill it.”

            Codus nodded. “Do I have a time frame?”

            “Just be ready when I get him there.” I said, and we nodded to each other.

            I snuck into the room at a crouch, trying to remain undetected as the gargoyle poked at the dead fledgling. I waited for Codus to get closer to the ramp, then I headed in the opposite direction of the ramp, planting myself in the furthest corner of the room.

            Straightening my back, I pulled an arrow from between my shoulder blades and knocked it against the tightened string of my bow. I took a breath, waiting for Codus to ascend the ramp and begin climbing the wall above it. Once he nodded to me, I let the arrow fly.

            It hit the gargoyle in the back of the head, simply bouncing off of its stone skull and clatter against the ground. It whipped its head toward me, snarling as it charged in my direction after a moment of assessment.

            The gargoyle closed the distance between us, and I ducked between its legs and ran toward the wall where Codus was waiting. Turning back to face the giant stone creature, which had turned about and was coming toward me again, giant hands swinging at me, I readied another arrow. When it flew, landing in the gargoyle’s eyes, it shook its head and plucked the arrow from its eye socket like a toothpick.

            I waited, as the gargoyle lurched in my direction, bloodlust reflecting in its unmoving eyes. I nearly shut my own, so close to feeling the impact of its swing against my torso.

            Just before it reached me, Codus sprung off of the wall toward the stone creature. He landed with his arms around the gargoyle’s neck, and hung on for dear life as it whipped him around, trying to free himself from the Imperial’s grasp. Codus pulled himself up, hoisting his legs up and standing on the creature’s wings for support. As he dodged the swings, the arms flying back to swat at him, Codus put his blade at the gargoyle’s throat, yanking his arm back and slicing its neck.

            The blade did nothing but send sparks flying from the friction of metal against stone. The gargoyle snarled, and I watched as Codus struggled to regain his balance on the back of the creature. He spent a moment in thought, then lifted his blade again, plunging it through the top of the gargoyle’s head.

            That did the job, and the gargoyle crumpled beneath Codus’ sword. The two came to the ground with a crash, Codus rolling several feet away from the stone monster and coming to a stop as he hit a wall. I rushed toward him, my arm extended to help him to his feet.

            “Are you alright, Shield-Brother?”

            He nodded, a smile on his lips below a bloody nose. “I’m fine. And you?”

            “Fine.” I said, clapping his shoulder. “That was impressive.”

            “Thanks!” he said, beaming as we sauntered back to the fallen gargoyle. Codus gripped his sword, putting his foot against the gargoyle’s skull to gain some leverage as he yanked the sword toward him.

            It didn’t budge, and I couldn’t help but laugh. “A little too strong, maybe.” I said, looking around for something to use to help him. “Want to ditch the sword? We can find a new one for you.”

            “No way.” he said, shaking his head quickly. “The Harbinger had that sword custom crafted for me. There’s no way I’m leaving it.”

            “Hmm.” I said, wandering across the room as I returned my bow to my back. “You know, she doesn’t have to be called Harbinger all the time, Codus. You can call her Karalissa or Lissa.”

            “I know that.” Codus said as I began moving barrels aside, looking for something to smash the head with. “It just seems impolite.”

            I laughed, kneeling down in front of a chest I uncovered. “Polite isn’t in the job description for the Companions.” I opened the chest, pulling a two-handed warhammer from the large container.

            “I know that, too.” Codus replied, still trying to un-wedge his sword from its spot as I approached. “But she deserves the respect. She’s been nothing but nice to me, and she didn’t have to allow me to join, but she did anyway.”

            I snickered. “Yep, that’s Lissa.” I motioned for Codus to move back, and once he’d distanced himself, I raised the hammer above my head. I brought it down with as much force I could manage, grunting as it slammed against the stone skull and smashed it. I straightened again as the sword fell out of the shattered stone and clanked against the ground. I balanced the hammer in my hands. “Oh. I liked that.”

            Codus laughed, taking his sword from the ground and dusting it off. “Thanks.”

            We moved on after that, headed into the final room of the fort. I was expecting a master vampire to greet us as we pushed the door open. Instead, we were greeted by another gargoyle and two more fledglings. Codus and I exchanged a look, nodding to each other as we silently assigned jobs.

            I ran toward the gargoyle, the hammer gripped tightly between my hands and ready to swing. The thing lashed out at me, and I struck its forearm, shattering it and watching it crumble away from the monster. It shrieked, staring at the affliction and giving me a moment to swipe at its legs. The gargoyle buckled as I swept its feet from beneath it, and when it hit the ground, I brought the hammer down on its head, just as I’d done to the gargoyle in the room before.

            Codus handled the fledglings. The first, a small white-blonde woman with blood running down her neck, ran at the Imperial rather quickly. He rammed the base of his sword against her face, knocking her back and providing him with an opening to plunge the blade through her chest. The other fledgling was man, and he blasted Codus with some sort of red mist that ejected from his hands. Codus grunted, but ran toward the man and swiped at his torso with the sword. The fledgling fell, and Codus rammed his sword through the stomach of his attacker.

            As I approached him, the scent of disease filled my nostrils. I inhaled deeply, the wolf within me identifying that smell as fresh vampirism. “Codus, I think he spread the vampirism to you.”

            The whelp groaned. “I know. I can feel it in my chest.” He pulled his pack from his back, setting it on the ground and riffling through it until he pulled a dark bottle out and held it up to the dim light. “This should help.”

            “What is it?” I asked as he uncorked the glass vile.

            “It’s a potion of cure disease, but it has an additive that is extra preventative toward contracted Porphyric Hemophilia.”

            I blinked. “Say again?”

            Codus laughed a little, chugging the contents of the bottle. He grunted as he finished, making a face at the taste. “Porphyric Hemophilia. That’s what the disease is called in Cyrodiil. I believe it’s called Sanguinine Vampiris here.”

            “How do you know so much about vampires?” I asked.

            He shrugged. “I don’t know so much.”

            I pursed my lips. “You have potions specifically for curing vampirism. You must have encountered a similar situation before now.”

            Codus sighed. “It’s a long story. Maybe I’ll tell you another day.”

            I nodded as he stood, patting him on the back. “Another day.”

 

            We entered Whiterun through the front gates just as the sun was peaking over the wall. It was a crisp morning, one of the mornings where I wished my armor wasn’t as skimpy as it actually was. I recall thinking I would have killed to wear that warm hide armor Codus was wearing.

            I held the Totem in my arms, cradling it like a child’s toy. It was beautiful, more beautiful than I had imagined it being. In Skjor’s journals that I’d found, the Totems had been described as magnificent artifacts of wonder, and there wasn’t any misinformation in those pages.

            Codus smiled at me, a funny look on his face. “What’s the artifact? I never even asked.”

            I smiled back. “It’s the artifact of a daedric prince. We’re planning to study it in the coming months.”

            “Sounds interesting.” Codus said as we climbed the steps to the Wind District. “Let me know what you discover.”

            I nodded. “I will.”

            We climbed the steps of Jorrvaskr shortly after, and we were greeted by Farkas on the top step. He smiled down at us, big and broad and somewhat intimidating, but that soft smile revealed the kindness of his heart.

            As we reached him, Farkas spoke to Codus. “Were you successful?”

            I held the Totem above my head, bouncing up and down for warmth. Farkas smiled at me as Codus responded. “I believe we were very successful.”

            Farkas nodded. “Glad to hear it.” He nodded toward the courtyard. “Follow me.”

            Codus and I followed behind Farkas down the path that wrapped around Jorrvaskr, leading us to the courtyard eating area, where all of the Companions had gathered to watch us arrived. Codus looked around, confused and enthused at what he was seeing.

            Vilkas and Lissa stood in the training area, not dressed in their armor as they usually were. Lissa wore a pair of brown trousers under a long, burgundy sweater, her cloth boots standing out in her usual mismatched fashion. Her hair was pushed back in a headband, now stretching past her shoulders. Vilkas wore black trousers and a black sweater, the sleeves pushed up to reveal his purplish-yellow arm that had previously been covered by a sling. He glared, as usual, which was a great contrast to Lissa’s happy smile.

            The three of us walked forward, me and Farkas taking spots on the opposite side of Lissa, across from Vilkas. Codus stood before us, waiting with expectant green eyes for us to speak.

            Lissa spoke first, a smile still firm against her stripes of warpaint. “Brothers and sisters of the Circle, today we welcome a new soul to our mortal fold.” She crossed her arms against a gust of cold air that blew through the courtyard, rustling her hair around. “This young man has showed honor and courage, and a willingness to learn and improve in any way he can. Who will speak for him?”

            I smiled. “I stand witness to the courage of the soul before us.”

            “Would you raise your shield in his defense?” Lissa asked, just as Kodlak did for her.

            “I already have, and I would do it one hundred times more.”

            Vilkas spoke next. “Would you raise a sword in his honor?”

            I nodded. “It stands ready for whatever challenge he faces next.”

            Farkas smiled. “And would you raise a mug in his name?”

            I laughed to myself. “I’d raise two or three pints to him, celebrating the glory of his stories and the legend he is sure to leave behind.” Codus beamed at me, tears shimmering in his emerald eyes.

            Lissa smiled too. “Then the judgement of this Circle is complete. His heart beats with the passion and determination that have fueled the fire of the Companions for years before, and will feed our flame for years to come. Let it beat with ours, that the fields may reverberate the sound of our battle cries against an army of enemies.”

            “It shall be so.” the three of us said in unison, echoed by the Companions looking on from the eating area.

            Lissa stepped toward him, extending a hand to the new Companion. “You’re one of us now, Codus. I know you won’t disappoint.”

            Codus shook her hand forcefully. “I won’t, Harbinger. I can promise you that.”

            Lissa nodded to him, and he bounded toward the other Companions, who greeted him with tankards of mead and cries of congratulations, none louder than Torvar’s.

            I nudged Lissa. “I’m guessing you already promoted him.”

            “Yep.” she said, smiling up at the group on the patio. She looked up at Vilkas. “This was a good day.”

            “Aye.” he said, still grimacing. “Did he actually do well, Aela?”

            I nodded. “I haven’t been so impressed in a long time. He’s a warrior.”

            Lissa bounced up and down. “I knew it. We were right, Farkas.” The two high-fived, and Vilkas and I laughed quietly at them.

            I turned toward Lissa and Vilkas, my hand on Farkas’ arm. “Are you two leaving now?”

            Lissa smiled, scratching her arm through her thick sweater. “Not just yet. We have a few things to pack, and I need to speak with my brother before we go, but I’m expecting he’ll be here soon.” She leaned toward me. “Jarl Ulfric is marching on Solitude. Cassius is coming here to see if Vilkas has changed his mind about fighting, is my guess. He said he was going to stop by a few days ago.”

            I furrowed my brow. “You’re not going back?” I asked Vilkas.

            He shook his head, wrapping his arm around Lissa’s waist. “No. There’s no place in that war for me anymore. With my arm as bad as it is, I don’t think I’d be much use.” He flexed the fingers on his right hand as he spoke, and I noticed that didn’t all move in sync, and his hand trembled a bit. He scowled at that, then tucked his hand back into his pocket, seemingly irritated with himself. Vilkas looked back down at Lissa, who smiled up at him and scratched his back, trying to comfort him.

            Farkas put his arm around my shoulders. “Alright, Lissa. Let’s hear it.”

            “Hear what?” she asked, her brow furrowing.

            Farkas raised an eyebrow. “Who’s in charge while you’re gone?”

            Vilkas laughed, but Lissa grimaced, a complete role reversal. “By the Nine, not this again.”

            I held my hand up to her. “Now, hear me out on this, Lissa. What would happen if a coven of monstrous spiders marched on Whiterun, and Farkas was left in charge? He’d hide under a table before he did anything productive to be rid of them.”

            “Oh.” Farkas said, putting his hand against my face and smooshing me away. “And if a hoard of skeever crawled through the streets?”

            “I would delegate.” I said, turning to him. “I would assign someone else to handle it.”

            “Yeah, while you stood on top of a table with your skirt in your hands, bouncing from foot to foot while a little mouse ran underneath you.”

            I gave Farkas a playful shove. “There is a big difference between a mouse and skeever. Lissa, what’s the tie breaker? Who are you leaving in—” As Farkas and I turned back to them, we were surprised to see the Vilkas and Lissa had already walked away. We looked around for them, only to see them walking hand in hand away from Jorrvaskr.

            “That’s not fair, Lissa!” Farkas yelled with a laugh. “Who’s in charge?”

            Lissa turned back to look at us. “Eorland!”

            Farkas and I groaned in unison, watching Lissa and Vilkas head away from Jorrvaskr and into their travel. I looked back at Farkas, who was still laughing at Lissa and his brother for just slipping away while we argued.

            “Well, Aela.” he began. “What do we do now?”

            I raised an eyebrow, a mischievous grin stretching across my face. “Want to get drunk?”

            Farkas laughed, slipping his arm around my shoulders again. “Hell yeah.”


	34. Moments in Solitude

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cassius spends some time talking to Jarl Ulfric on their way to Solitude. Later, Cassius, Ulfric, and Galmar infiltrate Castle Dour to end this war once and for all.
> 
> POV: Cassius

            I sat in the wagon, folding and unfolding the letter Karalissa had left for me, sitting on the long table in the main room of my house. Lydia had told me that she and Vilkas had stopped by, asking for me but probably knowing I wouldn’t be here. I had been riding back from Windhelm, making preparations for where to meet the rest of the troops and when to march, now that Solitude was the only thing standing in the way of winning this war.

            They had told me they were going to leave Whiterun for a while, travel and adventure and spend time together, and it was well-deserved after all that happened over the passing months. I was all for it, an undying supporter of whatever made my sister happy, but it still surprised me that they had left so soon. I unfolded the letter, reading it for the tenth time.

 

            Cassius,

        I had hoped to catch you before we left, but part of me knew you wouldn’t be home. I know you’re probably confused about why Vilkas and I have left so suddenly, and I can explain that.

        A few months ago (several if we’re being honest), you told me that my story may not have gotten a happy ending, but I could write a sequel. You were right: my story was not a happy one. I blamed myself for everything that happened to the Companions. I blamed myself for the death that occurred because I joined. I blamed myself for losing you, for thinking you to be dead all that time ago, for so long. I couldn’t place the blame anywhere else, because if I hadn’t pushed Viarmo, if we’d never left home, you never would have gone to Helgen.

        I know that I can be stupid and childish sometimes, and this may sound exactly that, but you were my sequel. After the sorrow and guilt and heartbreak, you picked me up and told me that I shouldn’t settle for anything less than a happy ending. Your words, our talking, inspired me to do that, to write a sequel, one with a happy ending. And though my sequel had a lot of bad, and I can’t control that, I can control how it ends, and this is how I want my conclusion to be: I want to wander off into the sunset with the love of my life and see the world, take on the world with him. And that’s exactly what I plan to do.

        You reemerged in my life after so many years, and you brought with you so many wonderful things that I cannot even begin to thank you for. You shared, with me, your beautiful wife, who showed me that love and compassion even when she knew nothing about me at all. You showed me that you can make up for lost time, sharing your travel and adventure and secrets with me without even blinking twice. You shared your passion with me, bringing me to meet Jarl Ulfric and decide for myself whether or not I wanted a place in the war. You shared your love for me with Vilkas, who was once horrified of you (he told me not to tell you that), but now swells in the chest every time you call him ‘brother’.

        There are so many things I wish I could change, brother. So many things I wish I could take back and never let happen. I would take back that day, our last day at home with Ma, when Viarmo called you a ‘stupid, attention-seeking, pig-headed Nord’, because I know that those words loom over your shoulder every second of the day. I would take back the day I called you ‘cold and unfeeling’ because I didn’t mean it, I never did, and you’re everything in the world but that. I would take back the secrets I kept from you, the ones that made you feel so low that you ran off and aggressively built an entire house because you felt like you couldn’t talk to me.

        And though I wish I could change those things, I know if I was presented with the option, I wouldn’t do it at all. Without those things, we wouldn’t be where we are today, happy and supporting of one another in everything we do. You’ve done countless good for me just because you could. And as I sit in my living room writing this letter, Vilkas is sitting in the chair near the stairs reading a book, and I’m warm and happy and safe in the house that _you_ gave to me, and I can never thank you enough for giving me this happy ending.

        I got my sequel, my happy ending, and I know that you will, too. You’ll travel with Jarl Ulfric to Solitude and win this war, and you’ll have another happy ending to your story, just like you deserve to have. Take care of yourself out there, brother. Win the war and come home to Lydia, so Vilkas and I can come back to you and share our stories and listen to the tales you tell that I love.

        Maybe when we both return home, we can work on a third installment. Another chapter to this crazy, eventful, tragic, beautiful story of ours.

        I promise to write. I love you.

        Karl

 

I folded the paper again, pressing the creased folds and tracing the edges between my fingers. I looked out at the fields as we passed, listening to the muffled banter from the wagons behind me and ahead of me, and trying to ignore the shaking of the wagon, like I always did.

            I unfolded the letter again, trying to memorize my sister’s words and her handwriting, and thought about what Lydia had told me before I left. We didn’t say goodbye to each other, we never did. She had only told me to watch my ass, and if I died, she’d ‘bring me back to life and kill me again’. I laughed to myself, eternally impressed with how strong and beautiful she was.

            “Is that from your wife?” a deep voice said beside me. I looked up from the letter, locking eyes with the Jarl, who sat to the right of me in the wagon.

            I shook my head, folding the paper for the thousandth time and tucking it into the chest plate of my armor. “No. It’s from my sister.”

            Something mischievous sparkled in his eyes, like he knew something I didn’t. I chose to ignore it. “Ah, Karalissa, right?” I nodded. “Is she at home with the Companions?”

            “No, actually. She’s travelling.”

            Ulfric nodded. “And we’ve lost your wife, too.”

            I snickered. “Haven’t lost her, my Jarl. She’s just…very pregnant.”

            His eyes widened. “Really?” I nodded, a smirk on my face. The Jarl patted my back. “Congratulations, Cassius.”

            “Thank you.” I said, internally rolling my eyes. It was nice and all, but I was tired of being praised for doing something everybody does eventually.

            The Jarl sighed. “We lost your other friend, too. The Companion.”

            “Well, I understand Vilkas’ decision entirely. We came very close to losing him in the ambush, and I couldn’t bring myself to ask him to come along again. He wants to spend time with my sister.” I looked out at the fields again. “Life is short in Skyrim, and Karalissa is the type to savor every moment.”

            The Jarl blinked at me. “The Companion and Karalissa are…”

            “Married. Yeah.”

            Ulfric shook his head, laughing to himself. “I didn’t realize she was that old.” He looked back at me, a small smile on his face. “She can’t be more than twenty-three.”

            “Good guess.” I replied with a smirk. “Just barely twenty-two.” I let out a long sigh. “You know, it’s funny. When I think about my sister, I don’t think of her as this war-maiden or Harbinger or anything that I know she really is. I can only think of her as my little sister, this little Nord who never saw the bad in anything. She’s still like that, and I wish every day that I could be too.” I looked back at Ulfric, clearing my throat. “Apologies, my Jarl. I’m not sure why I just told you that.”

            “No apology needed, Cassius. And you don’t have to refer to me in such a prestigious manner. Call me Ulfric.” He smiled at me, then took a deep breath. “I understand what you’re saying. Time travels quickly in these times, and there’s nothing we can do about it but live the way we want to. I spent a lot of time fighting for things I didn’t believe in, shedding blood for a cause that wasn’t my own. It’s hard to make up for lost time, to revel in what is and what could have been. It’s a curse to have regrets, things you wish you could have done. Your sister is wise to take time to do the things she loves with the people she loves. You should do the same.”

            “I plan to.” I said to him, nodding as I stared out at the land we passed.

            Ulfric chuckled. “You know, I can’t help but recall that we’ve been here before.” he said, nudging me with his elbow. “Ironic, don’t you think? Now _we’re_ sending those damned Imperials to the block.”

            I laughed too. “Want me to bind and gag you again? I’m sure I could find some linen around here somewhere…”

            We shared a laugh as the city approached in the distance, growing larger as we inched closer. I smiled to myself, looking up at the large stone wall that stretched across the sky above us.

            “Something humorous?” Ulfric asked, watching my face with an expression I couldn’t quite read.

            I shook my head, furrowing my brow with continued smile. “Nothing at all. I grew up here, in Solitude. I guess it’s just…ironic.”

            “How so?”

            I shrugged. “I don’t know. I spent years in the city, idolizing you and wanting to join the rebellion, no matter who tried to convince me otherwise. It’s ironic that I’m back here now, actually fighting to end the war with you, when that damned elf wanted me to fight to stop you.” At Ulfric’s confused glance, I explained with three simple, yet very complicated words. “My mother’s husband.”

            His brow furrowed. “Your father?”

            “No.” I said, matter-of-factly. “He’s not my father.”

            “Forgive me, Cassius, but I’m curious.” Ulfric said, his eyes locked with mine.

            I grimaced. “My father left. My mother remarried. I was never fond of the guy.” I shook my head. “There’s not much to tell.”

            Ulfric nodded, seeming to understand what I was saying. “Enemies are not few for men like us. Strong-willed, determined, we fight for what we think is right, and we don’t stop until we win or we die. Victory or Sovngarde.” He put his hand on my shoulder. “On this day, our enemy will know the fullness of our determination, the true depth of our anger, and the exalted righteousness of our cause. The gods are watching. The spirits of our ancestors are stirring. Men under stars yet to dawn will be transformed by what we do here today.

            “If you take nothing else from this battle, from me, take this: Fear neither pain, nor darkness. Sovngarde awaits for those who die with weapons in their hands and courage in their hearts. You have both, and much more.”

            I nodded, smiling in inclined embarrassment but swelling with pride. “Thank you, my Jarl.”

            “Ulfric.”

            I nodded again. “Thank you, Ulfric.”

 

            Bruised and bloody, scarred and sweaty, three burly Nords staggered toward the doors of Castle Dour, victory oozing from open wounds, and yet anger and determination radiating from wounds that healed long ago but continued to ach for justice.

            Without bothering to try the handle, knowing it was locked, I raised my leg to kick the door open. Using an unbelievable amount of force, given the exhaustion that was quickly consuming my body, the door slammed open, alerting several guards near the entrance.

            As they charged at us, **ZUUN** flew from Ulfric’s lips, disarming the men and leaving them defenseless as Galmar charged forward, wrapping the handle of his sword around the head of one Imperial officer, pounding into him with his skull over and over again, then gripping the face of the other and slamming his head against the wall and rendering him unconscious.

            We stepped over their bodies, lurching toward General Tullius with our shoulders back and our chest puffed intimidatingly. We climbed the stairs and entered the main room, greeted by an old man and a young woman.

            The woman spoke first. “Ulfric. Stop.”

            The Jarl laughed. “Stop what? Taking Skyrim back from those who’d leave her to rot?”

            As she spoke, we sheathed our weapons. “You’re wrong, Ulfric. We need the Empire. Without it, Skyrim will surely fall to the Dominion.”

            Galmar lowered his head, speaking in a voice that was menacingly quiet. “You were there with us, Rikke. You saw it. The day the Empire signed that damned treaty was the day the Empire died.”

            The woman, Rikke, shook her head in disgust. “You’re a damned fool.”

            Galmar was growing angry. Angrier than he already was. “Stand aside, woman. We’ve come for the General.”

            Rikke looked over her shoulder at the man, who looked older and weaker than I remembered. In Helgen, he was big and menacing, ordering men to be sent to death and watching with unfeeling eyes. Now, he sat on a bench in the corner, his head in his hands as he listened to the three of them talk.

            “He’s given up.” Rikke said. “But I have not.”

            Ulfric shook his head. “Rikke. Go. You’re free to leave.”

            She laughed. “I’m also free to stay and fight for what I believe in.”

            “You’re also free to die for it.” Ulfric countered, clearly begging her not to choose the latter of the two options.

            Rikke laughed again. “This is what you wanted? Shield brothers and sisters killing each other? Families torn apart? This is the Skyrim you want?”

            “Damnit, woman!” Galmar growled. “Stand aside!”

            She shook her head, drawing her weapon. “That’s not the Skyrim I want to live in.”

            Ulfric breathed a deep sigh, pulling his own blade from his hip. “You don’t have to do this.” he reminded her, but she just stared at him, a bloodlust in her eyes. After a moment, he nodded. “Then it shall be so.”

            Rikke rushed at him as Galmar pulled his warhammer from his back and I readied my sword. Ulfric blocked her strike, causing her to stagger back toward Galmar, who simply swung against her with his weapon, knocking her away from him and leaving her crippled on the ground.

            With a wild roar, Tullius stood and advanced to the fight at Rikke fell. He lifted his blade, bringing it down on Galmar’s upperarm, and the bear of a man wobbled on his feet. I grew angry at the sight, bolting toward the General and knocking him back with my blade.

            **FUS** formed on the tip of my tongue, flying from the back of my throat and tossing Tullius against the stone wall. He rolled away from the wall, and just before I could strike him again, he held up his hand.

            “Enough!” he cried. “Enough…”

            Ulfric helped Galmar to his feet, whose pride seemed to be wounded more than his arm. The two walked over to where I stood over the General. Ulfric glared down at him. “This is it for you. Any last words before I send you to Oblivion?”

            Tullius laughed, a muffled exhale. “You realize this is exactly what they wanted.”

            Galmar scowled. “What who wanted?”

            “The Thalmor.” Tullius explained. My eyes widened at the words. “They stirred up trouble here. Forced us to divert needed resources and throw away good soldiers quelling this rebellion.”

            Ulfric laughed. “It’s a little more than a rebellion, don’t you think?”

            “Heh.” Tullius snorted. “We aren’t the bad guys, you know.”

            “Maybe not.” Ulfric countered. “But you certainly aren’t the good guys.”

            Tullius raised an eyebrow. “Perhaps not. But then what does that make you?”

            “You just said it yourself.” Ulfric stared down at him, a menacing look crossing his shadowed face.

            Galmar crossed his arms. “It makes us right.”

            Tullius laughed, wiping blood away from where it dribbled below his nose. “And if I surrender?”

            Ulfric looked at him in disgust. “Then Empire I remember never surrendered.”

            “That Empire is dead.” Galmar added. “And so are you.”

            General Tullius looked around at the three of us, his eyes resting on mine. “So be it.” As Galmar lifted his warhammer, Ulfric extended his hand.

            Galmar groaned in annoyance, rolling his eyes and lowering his blade with limp arms. “Why? Let’s be done with it already!”

            Ulfric smirked. “Come, Galmar. Where’s your sense of a dramatic moment?”

            “By the gods!” Galmar exclaimed, utterly irritated by the lingering suspense. “If it’s a good ending to some damned story you’re after, perhaps the Dragonborn should be the one to do it.”

            They both looked up at me, standing on the sidelines and watching with unwavering attention. Ulfric raised an eyebrow. “What do you say, Dragonborn? Do you want the honor?”

            I thought about that for a moment. Though I seriously wanted to do it. I knew it wasn’t my place. This was Ulfric’s war. Not mine.

            “The honor is not mine to take, my Jarl. It belongs to you.”

            Ulfric’s grin widened, becoming more menacing as he turned back to Tullius. “So be it.” he said, lifting his blade above the fallen General for the final time.


	35. The End

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ulfric makes a speech, bringing this great and terrible war to a close. After, Ulfric has no choice but to share a secret with Galmar.
> 
> POV: Ulfric

            Taking a breath, I stood before my soldiers, gathered before me with the people Solitude, who were anxiously awaiting whatever I had to say.

            I looked out at the crowd, watching as Galmar pulled lady Elisif along with him from the Blue Palace, from where he had gathered her and her steward. Ralof stood with the red-headed man, who seemed utterly indifferent to what was happening around him.

            I looked to Cassius, the brave young man beside me, and listened to the mumbling that I heard in the hoard of people. Men and women whispering about the battle, about the wreckage, about who I was.

            “Yes.” I said. “I am indeed Ulfric Stormcloak. And at my side, the man the world knows as Dragonborn, but I know as the truest Stormcloak to walk this soil. And indeed, there are many who call us heroes. But it is you who are the heroes!”

            As my soldiers cheered, I continued. “It was you who fought a dying Empire who sunk its claws into our land, trying to drag us down with it. It was you who fought the Thalmor and their puppets who would have us deny our gods and our heritage. It was you who fought your kin who didn’t understand our cause, who weren’t willing to pay the price of freedom.

            “But more than that, it was you who fought for Skyrim, for our right to fight our own battles, to return to our glory and traditions, and determine our own futures!” The cheering rose up again. “And it is for these reasons I cannot accept the mantle of ‘High King’.”

            The crowd was silent then, waiting for my explanation. “Not until the moot decides that title should adorn my shoulders will I accept it.”

            Ralof’s voice rose up from the crowd. “And what about Jarl Elisif?”

            I laughed. “Yes! And what about the Lady Elisif? Will she put aside her personal hatred for me, and her misplaced love for the Emperor and his coin, so that the suffering of her people will end? Will he acknowledge that it is we Nords who determine Skyrim’s future? Will she swear fealty to me, so all may know that we are at peace, and a new day has dawned?”

            Everyone in the crowd turned to face Elisif, who only blinked twice. “What?”

            Her steward rolled his eyes. “Will you let Ulfric be in charge, Elisif?”

            “Oh.” she said, nodding. “I will!”

            I smirked. “Then it is settled. The Jarl will continue to rule Solitude, and I will garrison armies here to ward off Imperial attempts to reclaim the city. And in due time, the Moot will meet and settle the claim for High King once and for all. There is much to do, and I need every able bodied man and woman committed to rebuilding Skyrim.

            “A great darkness is growing, and soon we will be called to fight it, on these shores or abroad. The Aldmeri Dominion may have defeated the Empire, but it will not defeat Skyrim!”

            My men cried out, jumping and celebrating amongst themselves in the rubble of the city. I watched as the steward guided Elisif back to the Blue Palace and away from the scene, seemingly explaining what had just happened to her.

            Galmar walked toward me and the Dragonborn, and when he approached, he placed his hand on my shoulder.

            “How’d I do?” I asked him.

            He shrugged. “Eh, not so bad. Nice touch about the High King.”

            “Thank you.” I said with a laugh. “I thought so, too.”

            Galmar rolled his eyes, ultimately dismissing my entire speech. “It’s a foregone conclusion, you know.”

            I sighed. “Oh, I know.”

            “The Imperials aren’t going to leave us alone, either. They have camps in the hills. They’ll continue to strike out at us, whenever and wherever they can.”

            “I’m not afraid of the remnants of the Legion.” I assured him. “In time, they’ll give up and go home. What I fear is that the Thalmor will see our victory here and turn greater attention to our shores. We must be prepared to face them.”

            “Aye. And just as one war ends, another begins.”

            I nodded, turning to Cassius, who lingered beside me. “And of course, we couldn’t have done it without you.”

            He looked up at me, brown eyes sparkling with pride. “I’m sure you could have—”

            “Don’t do that.” I told him, putting my hand on his shoulder. “We would not have won this war without your help. You were an essential asset to my troops, and you’ve become a great friend to me. I haven’t forgotten the deed you did for me after Helgen, Cassius, and I won’t forget this.”

            “Thank you, my Jarl.” he said, and at my glance, he corrected himself. “Sorry. Ulfric.”

            I nodded, patting his back. “Come to Windhelm if you ever need anything. Help or shelter or coin or companionship, I’ll provide it without any hesitation. Gods preserve you.”

            “And you, Ulfric.” Cassius responded, nodding to me in dismissal.

            I turned back to the Nord beside me. “Come, Galmar. We’ve still much work to do.”

            He nodded, a small smile on his face. “That we do.”

            And with that, we walked through the wreckage and fire that surrounded us, our eyes on the gates of Solitude. We passed the shops, the staring eyes of the people who lived here, the congratulations of my soldiers.

            And then, I found the eyes of a women I once knew. Her hair was long and still the color of honey, graying in part but still flowing in the wind that whipped through Solitude as the change we had created rippled through the air. Her eyes were big and brown as they always had been, her face creased with worry and confusion as she watched the Dragonborn.

            Within a moment, her eyes met mine, and years of sorrow washed over me. Regret, denial, acceptance. The things I’d seen in the war, the things I’d left behind. The people I never got to know, never watched grow into people at all. I stared back at her, aware of the look on my face that betrayed that I’d always loved her, no matter where I was. Her eyes darted between me and Cassius, then she stared back at me and shook her head.

            I had no choice but to turn away from her and continue toward the gate with Galmar, pushing the large wooden barrier open and walking slowly toward the wagon that awaited us.

            We climbed up, taking our seats on the wooden bench and rocking, working to steady ourselves as the wagon lurched forward and knocked us around. As we regained our composure, I leaned back against the wagon, staring up at the stars that emerged over my new country and thinking about both my past and my future.

            “My Jarl?” Galmar said from before me. When I looked up at him, his face was lined with confusion I’d never seen on him before.

            “Yes, friend?”

            “What’s happened to you?” he asked. “You looked around at a woman and an elf, and you’ve become sad.”

            I stared at the man, who removed his bear hat and leaned back against the wagon himself. I took a breath, considering the options I had pertaining to this topic. After a moment, I smiled. “Tell me, Galmar. Why do you fight for me?”

            Galmar smiled too. “You know good and well why I fight. Stop asking.”

            Nodding, I asked a different question. “Would you still fight for me if you knew my greatest secret?”

            His brow furrowed. “Do I not know it already?”

            “No, you do not.” I looked back up at the stars, willing my gut to settle.

            “Tell me, then.”

            I was silent for a long time, waiting for my mind to form the right words to say. This information, a secret that I’d buried deeper than any I’d ever kept before, was on the edge of my lips, the tip of my tongue. Galmar knew more about me than any other sole that walked the fields of Skyrim, existed on this plain of life. And still, I’d decided long ago that it was better for everyone if no one knew at all. But as I looked back at him, his eyes so worried for me but still so confused, I decided I had no choice.

            “Galmar, what would you think if I told you I lied about my life before the Great War?”

            He furrowed his brow. “I’m not following. What are you trying to tell me?”

            I sighed. “That woman, back in Solitude.”

            Galmar swallowed around a lump in his throat. “Yes?”

            “Her name is Fjoli. We used to be in love.” I laughed to myself. “It was a long time ago, friend. Almost long enough that I can’t remember it at all, but I know it happened.”

            “I don’t understand, Ulfric.” Galmar said, shaking his head. “I don’t care who you were sweet on when you were young. That’s hardly a secret.”

            “I wasn’t just sweet on her, Galmar.” I tried to explain to him. “I had…children with her.”

            Glamar blinked. “ _Children_?”

            “Yes. Nearly thirty years ago.”

            “Ulfric, please tell me you’re joking.”

            I shook my head. “I’m not, Galmar.”

            He sat in silence for a moment, looking out at the field around us as we rolled away from Solitude. Galmar shook his head, trying to process the information. Finally he looked back at me, his face somewhere between disgusted and confused. “Why now? Why choose this moment to reveal what is possibly the biggest secret you could have kept from me? Which is out of character, and annoying, and curious and spineless, if I can say that.”

            I nodded, taking the insult. “You can say that.” I said. “The reason I’m telling you now is because if I become High King, we have to leave Windhelm.”

            “You will become High King.” he said, glaring at me. “And we will leave. We’ll build ourselves a nice castle somewhere up above Winterhold and Dawnstar and we’ll live a solitary life while I try to find some way to accept the fact that you have children. In any case, what do they have to do with leaving Windhelm?”

            “Galmar, my children have found their way back to me, no matter how far I tried to distance myself from them for their own good. After the war, the Thalmor and my father’s death, I didn’t want that to be their burden. I didn’t want the burden of an entire Empire to be on their shoulders. I didn’t want them to feel like they were obligated to stand for me, to stand in my place. I don’t want my life for them.

            “When my father died, I had no choice but to pick up where he left off. I delivered his gods damned eulogy from my prison cell, and I was still shown not mercy or kindness or sympathy. Why would I inflict that upon children who have nothing to do with this? Who don’t even know their father was the son of a Jarl.”

            I shook my head, leaning away from Galmar. “And it doesn’t matter anymore. I have no choice but to drag them into this, the mess that will follow the war. And it’s because my son fought with us. He brought his sister, my daughter, to our palace and pledged his allegiance to me and you, and fought with us to the very end.”

            Galmar’s eyes widened, and he shook his head. “Ulfric.” he whispered. “Please tell me I’m wrong as I draw conclusions.”

            I shook my head to him, feeling my face stretch into a grimace. “You’re not wrong, Galmar. The Dragonborn is my son. _Cassius_ is my son, and Karalissa my daughter.”

            Galmar stared at me for a moment, shaking his head and crossing his arms before he looked away from me entirely. I, too, looked out at the fields, watching the scenery pass us by as snow began to fall from the sky. And as the cold flakes landed on my skin and melted away, I thought of the nearing future, and the new story that was about to begin.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Woooooooooooaahhh.
> 
> Alright, let's discuss what happens next: There is some bigger picture shizz going on here. I'm currently working on a third installment, just as Karalissa said in her letter to Cassius. I'm hoping to have the first few chapters posted before the end of the month, but I have so many other stories to work on that are necessary for the next book to make sense to all of you.
> 
> In the meantime, I'll be posting a series of one-shots telling stories of Karalissa and Vilkas' travel through Skyrim, the adventure they find and the trouble they get into. The next book will pick up one year after they return, and a few things that happen to them on their vacation will be mentioned then. 
> 
> So, does anyone have questions that need answers, from the entire fic? Is Ulfric REALLY their DAD????(the answer is yep) What will happen between Aela and Farkas in the afterlife? Cassius and Lydia are having a baby, will that be covered in the next installment? I mean come on, WHAT'S WRONG WITH VIARMO? 
> 
> All of these questions, and probably more questions, are soon to come.
> 
> Thank you all soooo soooooo much for reading my work and providing feedback and commentary and praise that I needed to keep this work going. Writing has been so much fun for me, and interacting with you all has been so humbling and uplifting.  
> If you're interested, there is a deviant art that does fanart of Vilkalissa and the Circle, and you can view their art here: devitameatball.deviantart.com  
> Also, you can follow me on instagram @haunter_ielle if that tickles your fancy. I post spoilers and hints every once in a while.
> 
> Again, thank you all so much, and stay tuned. There's always more to come.


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